Haunted
by Gmariam
Summary: When Ianto woke up with a very transparent Time Agent in his flat, he knew it would be a long, difficult day. He never thought he'd end up closer to Jack because of John Hart, though.
1. Chapter 1

I.

The sun crept in through the curtains, waking him from an exceptionally good dream with a disappointed groan. It was too bright, too early, and too loud. His head was not pounding as bad as it sometimes did after a few too many pints, but he was definitely not ready to get up. He turned toward Jack, only to remember that Jack was in London and wouldn't be back until the next day. Which was why Ianto had gone down to his local and watched the match with some of the regulars: it had been a rare night to himself, and he'd tried to make the most of it.

It felt strange, because he and Jack had been spending more and more time together—and not just shagging at the office and heading their separate ways like they had in the beginning. No, they went out after work—dinner, movies, a concert. They'd gone to a rugby game, seen Jack's favorite drag queen perform, and even gone to the beach one sunny Sunday afternoon, like normal people did on the weekends. And they spent several nights a week at Ianto's flat now.

Jack was in London for three days of meetings with UNIT, the Queen, and anyone else who could get on the list to meet with Torchwood and learn its sordid secrets. He hated going and had asked Ianto to go with him, but Ianto had bowed out with a dozen excuses. They couldn't both be away at the same time, what if there was a big Rift opening, who would save the world—who would gas the car and feed the team? Jack had pleaded with him, assuring him the team would be fine without them and practically begging Ianto to join him. They could get a nice hotel room, see a show, even visit some museums if Ianto was interested in that sort of thing. Ianto had finally confessed that he'd not been back to London since Canary Wharf, and still couldn't face returning to the city where he'd lost so much. Which was all true—from a certain point of view.

Jack had been more understanding after that, reassuring Ianto that he understood, that he was there for him, did he want Jack to go with him to the riverfront memorial, pay their respects at Lisa's grave, meet with other survivors? Ianto had thanked him, declined him, and thoroughly distracted him with a quick shag over the desk.

He felt bad about staying in Cardiff. Jack had seemed genuinely disappointed, and had texted him several times since he'd left; Ianto told himself that could be down to Jack simply not getting quick and easy sex. Owen had asked him why he wasn't warming Jack's bed in London, indelicately pointing out that someone else probably was. If Owen hadn't been undead and unable to heal, Ianto probably would have punched him.

He'd rolled his eyes, buried the feelings of fear and insecurity he'd already churned up all on his own, and tried not to think about Jack shagging his way through London. Instead, he'd chased down some Weevils with Tosh, who was wise enough to not say anything about his obvious distraction and the deep scratch he received on his forearm as reward. Owen gave him a hard time, of course; Ianto threatened the doctor's good hand if he told Jack. When Jack texted him later, Ianto didn't say a word about it and ignored Jack's obvious attempts at phone sex.

Which was why he'd gone down to The Quiver and Quill after work: to take his mind off whatever—or whomever—Jack was doing in London. He had no claim on Jack, and they'd made no promises. In fact, recent events sometimes left Ianto wondering why he was still with Jack. There were the obvious reasons, like the good company and great sex, but then another ex-lover would show up and Jack would run off, or Gwen would threaten to leave and Jack would give in, or Jack would shut down and refuse to talk to him about things like going to Hell and bringing coworkers back from the dead. It was hard, dating a man like Jack.

Ianto had no plans to sleep around, but he was well aware of Jack's reputation; after several pints at The Quiver and Quill, he'd almost stopped constantly thinking about it. He'd enjoyed the match, played a few games of pool (and lost rather spectacularly thanks to his injury), and stumbled home far too late for a work night. Alone.

Sighing to himself as he rolled over in an empty bed he wished was otherwise occupied, Ianto was more than surprised to hear a voice that wasn't Jack's greet him; he grabbed his gun from the bedside table, flicked the safety, and rolled over, wincing as he landed on his sore arm.

"Good morning," drawled an annoying accent. John Hart, Jack's former partner, was lounging on the bed next to him, still wearing the same dirty shirt and a gaudy red jacket.

Closing his eyes, Ianto told himself not to shoot, hoping the nightmare would be over when he opened his eyes again. He was disappointed to find the offensive Time Agent still there. In his bed. In Jack's place. Laying down next to Ianto, facing him with a shit-eating grin.

"You're not a morning person, are you?" Hart asked.

Ianto swore and tried to push the man off the bed…only his hands went right through the other man's body. John Hart was as transparent as a ghost.

"Tell me this isn't happening," Ianto muttered. "Tell me this is a really bad fish-and-chips dream."

"Good to see you too, Eye Candy."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ianto demanded, sitting up and enabling the safety. "And don't call me that." Hart sat up as well, and Ianto found he could see right through the other man to his windows, like he was actually a ghost. So the prat wasn't there in his bed, not really, which meant—well, thank god for that. Ianto didn't think he'd been _that_ drunk last night.

"Trust me, not my first choice of planets," the other man returned. "Though the view is quite nice at the moment."

"Are you actually here?" Ianto asked, ignoring the innuendo. "Or is this some sort of transmission you're torturing me with?" He waved his arm through Hart's chest, grinning when the other man grimaced and tried to push him away only for his arms to go right through Ianto. He didn't feel a thing, but apparently it bothered Hart; he'd have to remember that.

"In a way, yes, I'm here," Hart replied. "Only I'm also not here, I'm light-years away."

"That makes perfect sense," Ianto replied with an eye roll. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, grabbed a shirt from the floor and pulled it over his head. "Well, whatever it is, get out."

He stood up and started toward the bathroom; Hart followed.

"Believe me, I'd leave if I could, but I can't—I'm stuck." Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Really. I've been waiting hours for you to wake up."

Ianto pulled a face. "You were watching me sleep?"

"I've been trying to figure out how to get out of your flat before you woke up," Hart snapped. "But every time I try to leave, I get pulled back."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Hart huffed at him. "I need your help."

This time Ianto raised both eyebrows before bursting out laughing. He didn't even bother answering, but went into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Hart followed him, walking right through the door as Ianto was about to undress.

"Hey!" Ianto exclaimed, turning around. "A little privacy, please?"

"Aw, it's not like I can touch anything," Hart replied with a leer. "I just want to watch."

"I already said get out."

"I will if you help me." Hart crossed his hands over his chest. "And I'll haunt you if you don't."

"Are you dead, then? Trapped between life and death?"

"No," Hart replied, then looked uncertain. "At least, I don't think so. I don't remember dying."

"Too bad," Ianto replied. "I've never met a ghost."

"I'm not a ghost," Hart snapped. "I think I'm trapped in a pocket universe. Tiny little room, dreary as hell."

"You should fit right in, then," Ianto replied with a grin. "Good bye!"

He washed his face and began to shave, trying very hard to ignore the ghostly form behind him.

"Look, I know you probably hate me—"

"I don't even know you," Ianto replied, then set down his razor and turned around. He pretended to be surprised. "But you did go after everyone on my team and kill my boss, so—yes, I suppose I do hate you. Sod off."

"I wasn't trying to kill anyone," Hart said. "I was only trying to slow you all down."

"And pushing Jack off a building was an accident?" Ianto didn't hide the anger in his voice, and felt a grim satisfaction when Hart flinched, like he had when he'd shoved Ianto into the elevator that same day.

"It was an impulsive mistake, I admit," Hart replied. "I have a problem with those sorts of things."

"With killing people, you mean?" Ianto snorted. "I'm not helping a murderer."

"You don't have a choice!" Hart exclaimed. "You can't get rid of me just by ignoring me."

Ianto grabbed his razor and poked it into the space where Hart's head was; the other man flinched again and backed off, waving his hands as if he could push Ianto away. "I can try."

"Look, I don't want to be here anymore than you want me to be here, but I don't know how to get out."

"Walk through that door and leave," Ianto said, finishing his face. "Find someone else to haunt. I'm going to take a shower."

Hart wagged his eyebrows. "Then I'm definitely not leaving now."

Ianto put both hands through Hart's chest, causing him to stumble back toward the door. "Get out."

"Jones, I—"

"Oh, you know my name!" Ianto exclaimed with exaggerated happiness, then slammed his face shut. "Get out anyway."

"Christ, you're tetchy in the morning," Hart muttered, backing away.

"No, you lied to us, assaulted us, then killed Jack last time you were here. So I see no reason whatsoever to listen to anything you say. Go away."

"Where is Jack?" Hart asked. "Are you shagging him yet? Because he was definitely eyeing you last time I was here."

Ianto ignored him. He started the water, then crossed his arms over his chest, pointedly staring at the door. John Hart finally seemed to get the idea and left the bathroom. Ianto sighed with relief, though he did not relax his guard.

What the hell was going on?

He undressed while he waited for the water to warm up, keeping an eye on the door the entire time. John Hart was in flat—his bedroom. The thought was intolerable, that the vile menace of a man who had appeared five months earlier had returned—and seemed to have it out for Ianto. Why him? Why couldn't Hart have picked someone else to haunt, like Gwen or Owen? Why wasn't he off bothering Jack in London? Only that image turned Ianto's stomach, and he decided it was better to have Hart where he could see him.

He needed to find out more. What was a pocket universe, where was it, what had happened to Hart? And why was he following Ianto? Suddenly determined to have answers and get rid of the man—and recognizing he was sublimating like mad—Ianto cleaned up quickly, careful of his bandaged arm. He set aside the memory of his last morning with Jack and the lazy shower they'd had together, stroking one another to completion; it wouldn't do to face Hart with a raging hard-on.

Heading back into the bedroom, he wasn't surprised to find Hart still there, walking around and studying the room. It was a small bedroom, with a queen size bed set with two side tables that he'd picked up after Jack had started staying over more. Jack's held a book and a few other personal belongings he tended to leave at Ianto's flat most nights. The dresser opposite the bed also kept a few of Jack's clothes, and Jack's dress shoes were laying on the floor nearby. Behind him in the bathroom was Jack's toothbrush and comb; he'd packed his clothes and toiletries from the Hub to go to London, leaving it rather obvious that Ianto was sharing his room with someone. He wondered if Hart would notice.

"Looking good, Eye Candy," Hart drawled, eyeing Ianto up and down in his towel. Though he felt wildly self-conscious, Ianto decided he wasn't going to give the man the satisfaction of rattling him, so he walked over to his dresser and pulled out pants and a vest, then went to the closet to pick out a suit. A few of Jack's shirts hung next to his own. He ignored them and took out a black suit with a red shirt and striped tie, then headed back into the bathroom to change.

He dressed quickly, leaving his tie undone as he styled his hair. Hart was still in the bedroom, and grinning far too big for Ianto's comfort.

"You're shacking up with someone," he said, pointing at the evidence. "Two tables with two different sets of belongings, shoes that are not your size, shirts that are much more Jack's new style than yours and—" He literally poked his head into the bathroom. "Yep, two toothbrushes. Who's the lucky bloke?" He paused. "Ooh, is it Jack? Come on, tell me it's Jack!"

"It's none of your business," Ianto snapped, wondering how Hart had come to that conclusion so quickly.

"Where is he, then? This mysterious lover with the side table and toothbrush? Did you have a row last night? Is that why your bed was empty?"

"Still none of your business," Ianto replied. He went to the kitchen, dismayed to see it was well past his usual time to be at the Hub. He put off coffee and breakfast and decided to pick some up on the way in. Grabbing his keys and wallet, he left the flat, locking the door behind him only for John Hart to walk right through. Ianto stared at him; Hart shrugged.

"You have to admit, it's a neat trick."

"For a ghost," Ianto replied, turning to leave. Hart followed him all the way to his car, slipping into the passenger side and eyeing the inside as he had been eyeing Ianto earlier. Strangely enough, it made Ianto feel slighter better when Hart admired it.

Hart kept up a constant drone of comments next to him, remarking on everything from the traffic to people (and their pets) on the streets to the dreary October weather. Ianto ignored him for the most part, only responding when he had a good comeback. He tried to get more information out of Hart on the pocket universe and why he was following Ianto, but the man waved him off, saying he didn't want to repeat himself when they got to the Hub.

Parking the car, Ianto got out and started toward the small shop where he liked to pick up coffee and pastries for the team. Hart followed, and Ianto wondered if others would be able to see the ghostly figure walking with him. He could explain it as a Halloween prank, perhaps, since it was a little over a week away, but the folks at the bakery knew him, and he didn't want to be embarrassed by any of Hart's crude comments.

"We're in public now," he told John as they left the car park. "Watch your manners or I'm not helping you."

"Yes, you will," Hart replied too confidently. "You can't stand me, so I know you'll work hard to get rid of me."

"Is that why you're following me around?" Ianto asked. "Most likely to get you out of here fast?"

"It's true," Hart replied, and Ianto nodded because it was; he couldn't wait to be rid of the man. He noticed a few people on the pavement watching him funny. He turned to Hart.

"I'm also the one most likely to simply obliterate your little pocket universe rather than try to get you out."

Hart eyed him sideways. "Funny enough, Eye Candy, I believe that."

"Good. And don't call me that," Ianto replied, rolling his eyes. "It's ridiculous."

"What would you prefer, then?" Hart offered gallantly, turning around and walking backward in front of Ianto. "Sharp Suit? Sweetheart?"

"My name is Ianto Jones. Either one would work."

Not watching where he was going, Hart suddenly shivered as a woman on her mobile walked right through him. He shouted at her, but she didn't stop or turn. No one else could see or hear Hart. Ianto sighed as he realized it was both a relief and a nightmare.

He picked up some pastries, but they were out of his favorite coffee so he decided to make some at the Hub. He had a new blend he'd been saving for when Jack returned, but with his day looking to be long and tedious, he needed it early. There would still be some for Jack when he was back the next day. Fortunately, Hart did not embarrass him too much at the shop. As soon as they left, however, he started talking again.

"That red-head was into you," he said with a grin. "You ever take her up on it?"

"On what?" Ianto asked wearily. He was already sick of the man, and it was still early in the morning.

"She was flirting with you, mate," Hart replied. "And she was cute, in a simple yet easy kind of way."

"She's nice to everyone," Ianto told him, though he wondered if Hart was right. Not that it mattered, but sometimes it was nice to think there were options, especially given Jack's endless stream of former lovers, sex stories, and constant flirting. "Besides, I'm not interested."

"That's right, you're cohabitating," Hart grinned. Ianto didn't bother to correct him. "So if you're not into the shop girl, does that mean it's serious? How long have you been shacking up with Mr. No Show?"

"We're not shacking up," Ianto replied curtly. "He spends the night a few times a week, sometimes I stay at his. And it's not serious."

"I thought living together in this time meant things were serious," Hart said. They'd reached the tourist office and Ianto let them in, locking the door again and setting down the box of pastries.

"Not always," he said.

"But serious enough that you're not interested in looking elsewhere?" Hart asked. "Because when you spring me from this place, I'd be happy to thank you personally for your help."

Ianto stopped in his tracks, mouth curling in disgust. "You mean, pay me in sexual favors?"

"I like the sound of that even better," Hart replied, standing close. "Interested?"

"Absolutely not," Ianto said. Floored by the man's gall, he resisted the urge to shove an elbow through Hart's head and went into the back office to get the new coffee blend. "More like revolted and repulsed."

"Harsh," Hart muttered. "I'm good, though. You can ask Jack."

"No thanks, I'll take your word for it."

"Maybe he'd be interested," Hart mused. "He wasn't last time, but things seemed a little strained that night."

"Stay away from Jack," Ianto snapped, realizing it was a futile warning.

"Why?"

Ianto grabbed the pastry box and leaned closer. "Because I said so, that's why. And shut up for five minutes, before I find a way to scatter your electrons across the known universe."

He stepped into the tunnel that lead to the Hub, and for the first time all morning, John Hart was quiet as he followed.

* * *

Author's Note:  
And once again, something that was supposed to be short and light-hearted Halloween romp has turned into a much longer, more complicated story that really has nothing to do with Halloween. Look for five or six chapters with lots of John and Ianto snarking back and forth. Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

II.

Ianto strode into the Hub, ignoring the ghostly figure beside him. "Team meeting in five!" he shouted, and three heads turned to look at him in surprise. Not only was he late, but he was yelling. He tossed his coat on the sofa, threw the pastry box on the table, then moved toward the coffee machine, calling out to Tosh as he walked by. "I need every scanner you've got ready to go in the conference room, Tosh."

"Is everything okay?" she asked as he hurried past. He waved his hand at her, ignoring John Hart's inappropriate comments about her skirt. He might have to get the noise canceling headphones from the firing range if the man didn't shut up; five minutes hadn't been nearly enough.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax; a bad cup of coffee would do him no favors and only ruin his mood even more. He was deliberate in his actions, and made sure it was a good, strong brew. They would all need it.

"That smells amazing," John Hart said, sounding like he meant it. Ianto turned toward him in surprise.

"You can actually smell it?"

"It's bloody gorgeous," the man replied, his eyes closing with a smile. "Coffee is shit in the 51st century, you know."

"How can you smell anything?" Ianto demanded. "You're not actually standing here inhaling it."

"I'm still breathing. And I can see you, I can hear you, so it only makes sense that I could smell you and your coffee."

"No, it doesn't, but none of this makes sense. And you can't touch anything, so you can't taste it." He smirked as he took a long sip of from his cup. "That's too bad. It's an exceptionally good blend."

"Tosser," Hart muttered, gazing longingly at the cup.

"Wanker," Ianto threw back. "Board room, and follow me. No wandering."

"I can't wander," Hart grumbled. "And believe me, as much as I like staring at your arse in that suit, I would love to know what you're hiding in this base of yours."

"No diamonds, if you're looking to get rich again."

"I'm done with diamonds."

"Right, like you're done with—"

"Ianto?" asked Gwen, coming up behind them. "Who are you talking to?"

"Ah, it's the naïve little bleeding heart who can't kiss to save a life." Hart grinned and waved, though Gwen couldn't see him. "Hi sweetheart, it's Vera, remember me? I got the drop on you twice last time I was here!"

Ianto rolled his eyes, though Hart was probably right about Gwen. He turned around to find her frowning at him. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said. He handed her a cup of coffee. "Rough morning, is all. Can you take Tosh's mug downstairs? I'll bring Owen's."

"Sure," she said, still looking curious. Instead of turning to leave, she waited for him and began talking as soon as they started for the conference room.

"So was your rough morning due to a good night?" she asked with a knowing bump against his shoulder, causing him to almost spill his mug. "Tosh said you were planning on going out after work."

"I did," Ianto replied, sipping at his mug as he tried to stop it from dripping and measure his response. She was clearly looking for information. "Played pool at my local, had a few pints, and watched the match."

She smiled at him; if her hands had been free, she probably would have touched his arm in that way she had. "That sounds like fun. Meet anyone?"

He almost spit out his drink. "Sorry, what?"

"Did you meet anyone?" she asked. "Isn't that what people do at a bar?"

"Um, no," Ianto replied, still slightly in shock. "Most of the blokes were there to play pool and watch the match."

"Oh," she said, nodding as if she understood. "Is your local a gay bar then?"

"No!" he exclaimed, while John Hart cackled with laughter beside him. "Gwen, what are you talking about? Doesn't Rhys have a local pub he likes to frequent? Get a pint, watch a game, hang out with his mates?"

"Well, yes," she said. "It doesn't seem your kind of thing, though."

"What doesn't?" asked Tosh as they walked into the conference room.

"Ianto went to his local last night," Gwen told her. "He hung out with the blokes and played pool."

Tosh didn't look surprised, probably because she knew Ianto better than Gwen and knew he liked going to his local. "Of course he did," she said with a supportive smile that Ianto appreciated. "Sounds like fun."

Owen walked in at that moment and snorted. "Fun at the gay bar?" he asked. "You pull, then?"

"No," Ianto replied. "I did not. And it's not a gay bar. I played some pool, had a few pints. That's all."

"And you went home alone," Owen said, sitting down. "Wonder what Jack got up to in London. Or who."

"Piss off," Ianto muttered, once again trying not to think about it. Tosh was frowning at Owen, shaking her head before offering Ianto another small smile; even Gwen looked away, clearly uncomfortable.

"Ooh," John said, standing beside him and watching the conversation with a thoughtful look. "That hit close to home. I bet you _are_ shagging him. Was that his stuff back at your flat?"

"Shut up," Ianto said, glaring at him. He turned back to the table to find all three of his teammates staring at him.

"So what's this meeting about?" asked Owen. "Your new invisible friend?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Ianto replied, sitting down with a sigh. He took a long sip of coffee. "I'm being haunted," he announced.

"I'm not dead!" John exclaimed. "Stop talking like I'm dead."

Ianto grinned up at him. "Stop following me around like a ghost."

"I told you, I can't!"

"Ianto?" asked Tosh. She sounded concerned. "Who are you talking to?"

Ianto folded his hands in front of him. "I woke up this morning with a visitor in my flat. He says he's trapped in a pocket universe."

Gwen shook her head in confusion. "Are you saying Jack is haunting you from another dimension?"

"No, Jack is in London," Ianto replied, wondering why she would think that.

"Then who's the unlucky ghost stuck with you?" asked Owen, twirling his pencil with a smirk.

Hart threw his hands in the air and huffed. "Damn right I'm unlucky, stuck with this righteous prick with a stick up his arse."

"And you're an overdramatic tosspot with a complete lack of morals and an offensive sense of fashion," Ianto threw back.

"Oh no," said Tosh, shaking her head as if she'd figured it out.

"Oh yes," Ianto replied.

"Who is it?" Gwen asked. Owen leaned forward.

"John Hart," Ianto announced. "And he's standing right next to Gwen trying to look down her shirt."

"I am not!" Hart protested. Gwen sat up straighter and pulled her top up.

"You were, and don't do it again or I'll put my fist through your head. Tosh, can you scan the area and see if you pick up anything?"

"How about you tell us what the hell is going on while she does?" Owen asked.

"I told you—I woke up this morning with Hart in my bedroom." Ianto held up a hand before Owen could even suggest it. "Not like that. He's here, but not really here—completely see through, though for the record, he hates it when you poke him."

"Depends on what you're poking me with," Hart murmured. Ianto shuddered in disgust and continued.

"He said he's not dead, but trapped in a pocket universe."

Tosh frowned. "What's a pocket universe, exactly?" she asked.

"It's an alternate dimension squeezed into a tiny space. Small enough to carry around in your pocket." Ianto repeated what Hart had explained to him earlier, and Tosh nodded.

"That's what I thought. And I'm definitely picking up some funny readings next to you, Ianto, but I don't know what to make of them."

"Make them go away," Ianto replied promptly.

"Why?" Owen asked. "Hart is trapped in another dimension. Let him rot there."

"Normally, I would agree," Ianto replied, ignoring Hart's protest. "But he seems to think that he's stuck following me unless he can get out. So far he's followed me all over my flat, all the way to work, and around the Hub. And no one else can see him, right?" When the others all nodded, Ianto sighed in frustration. "This is so unfair."

"Life is unfair, Eye Candy," Hart replied, sounding far too cheerful. "Look at me—last time I came here looking for an Arcadian diamond and ended up with a bomb on my chest. Now I'm stuck with you!"

"It's like a bad television sitcom," Ianto muttered. Turning toward Hart, he knew the others would see him only talking to air, but it didn't matter. They had to figure this out now that they were back in the Hub. "How long has it been since you were here?"

"Few weeks," Hart replied. "Damn good time, even if no one took me up on the orgy. How long for you lot?"

"Five months. Where have you been?" Ianto asked, then shook his head. "Never mind, I don't want to know. Tell us what you were doing and what happened when you got sucked into this pocket universe."

"I left your dreary planet and did some exploring. Ran into someone looking for something I was well equipped to find, so I took the job—figured it was more than enough money to make up for the diamond fiasco. He wanted me to find something he'd lost, over on Alpha Centauri."

"What was it?" Ianto asked, wondering how much of the story was true so far.

"Looked like an old pocket watch," Hart replied. "It reminded me of that stopwatch you used to time the bomb on my chest. So I opened it and found myself trapped in a dark room, but in your flat."

"Bad habit, that," Ianto pointed out. "Opening things you shouldn't open. Too bad there wasn't another bomb inside. We wouldn't be having this problem."

"That's harsh, Eye Candy."

Ianto rolled his eyes and turned back toward the others, filling them in on what Hart had told him. "Tosh, any ideas?"

She looked startled. "Well, er…do we know anything else about pocket universes? Something in the database, archives, anything at all?"

"I'll start looking as soon as we're done here," Ianto said. "If you could look at those readings and start working on something to fix this."

"Fix it how?" she asked. "Do we have to free him from this pocket universe so he'll stop following you? Or destroy it?"

"I'd suggest the latter, but we should probably try the former first," Ianto replied. Hart nodded vigorously.

"What do me and Gwen do?" Owen asked. "Besides amuse ourselves by watching you talk to thin air?"

"I'm not—" Ianto started, then stopped when Hart laughed. "How about you and Gwen keep an eye on the monitors, go after anything that comes up, and finish your paperwork in the meantime?"

Owen stood up. "Fine by me. I've got a ton of things to catch up on, none of which involve obnoxious jerks from the future." He turned and left without another word; Hart flipped him a two-finger salute.

"Do you want some help, Ianto?" Gwen asked. "I can come downstairs with you and—"

"Nope," Ianto cut her off. "I'll be fine."

She looked skeptical. "You actually want to be by yourself with Hart?"

"Not particularly," Ianto replied. It was more that he didn't want to listen to Gwen talk about the wedding any more than he already had over the past month. It was driving them all insane, with the added bonus of making Ianto feel even worse about his not-as-serious fling with Jack. "But we do need someone to keep an eye on everything else." He paused. "And you really need to finish your paperwork before your honeymoon."

"She's getting married!" Hart exclaimed. "How romantic. Who's the lucky man? Tell me it's not Jack."

Ianto whirled on him. "Why the hell would you think that?"

"Think what?" asked Gwen.

"You have to admit, she's good-looking and spirited," Hart replied, motioning at Gwen. "Though exceptionally overbearing and definitely needing work in other areas. So probably not Jack, but some poor bloke who rubs her feet, cooks her dinner, and fawns over her every word."

Ianto couldn't help but stare, then burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Gwen demanded. "What did he say?"

"He thinks Rhys rubs your feet and cooks you dinner," Ianto laughed, trying to catch his breath.

"He does," she said, frowning as she tried to find where Hart was standing. "He's brilliant, my Rhys."

Hart made a gagging sound Ianto couldn't disagree with. He patted Gwen on the arm with a smile. "Which is why it was so funny," he told her, enjoying her continued confusion. "All right, paperwork for you, tech stuff for Tosh, and I'm heading to the archives."

"Ianto?" Tosh asked as they left. "What about Jack?"

"What about Jack?" Ianto replied without thinking.

"Are you going to call him?" she asked. "Tell him about…" She waved rather ambiguously toward the space around Ianto.

"I don't see any reason to bother him," Ianto replied. "Hopefully everything will be back to normal by the time he returns."

"Hopefully," she said, nodding with a smile. "I'll do my best."

"Thanks, Tosh," Ianto replied. He headed toward the archives, half hoping John Hart didn't follow, but knowing it was inevitable.

"Nice lair," the Time Agent drawled when they entered.

"I like it," Ianto replied. "And since we're here to look for something that might help you, you don't get to complain."

Hart walked around, looking at pictures and files and various artifacts. "I could help you identify some of this, if you want," he offered.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Hart replied with a shrug. "I'm bored."

"I'm not, so thanks anyway. I'm looking for a way to release an annoying Time Agent from the pocket universe he got himself trapped in."

"Speaking of annoying Time Agents, where is Jack anyway?" Hart asked. "I was looking forward to another happy reunion."

Ianto snorted. "Be glad he's gone. He was pissed off at you for a week after you left. And he's in London, meeting with the people who fund us."

"Sleeping with them, more like," Hart remarked, and Ianto stiffened, then shrugged.

"Maybe," he said. "Now, if you don't mind, I work better when it's quiet."

"Jack's off whoring in London and Cooper's engaged, so what about the rest of you? Cooper seemed to think you were hitting the gay bars last night. Don't they know you're shacking up with someone?"

Ianto sighed as he pulled up the database they'd merged with Torchwood One. "Yes, they know. Sort of. And I went to the pub to play pool. I wasn't on the pull."

"No, you definitely woke up to a cold bed," Hart snorted. "Damn shame, too. Fine arse like that shouldn't be wasted."

"Do you mind?" Ianto ground out. "We need to find some way to get you the hell out of here."

Hart ignored him completely. "You never answered when I asked if you were shagging Jack."

"That's because it's none of your business," Ianto replied. He started typing various search terms into the computer, resisting the impulse to type in 'Jack's fucking prat of a partner.'

"You're awfully touchy about it, though, aren't you?" Hart asked, gazing thoughtfully at Ianto. "I think you are. Or you were, and he broke your heart. He's good at that, you know. Breaking hearts."

"It's not like that," Ianto ground out, thinking back to only a few weeks ago when Owen had bothered him about the same thing. And then Gwen, who had given him a hard time in Tretarri when Bilis Manger resurfaced. Even some of the blokes at the pub, always trying to get him to pull, had decided he must be gay because he wasn't interested in a random shag with any of girls they pointed out. He hadn't told them he _was_ actually sleeping with a man, and not because he was sleeping with a man. Rather, he was sleeping with a man who also happened to be his boss, and most of the time he didn't know what the hell they were to one another, which was hard to explain to a bunch of blokes only looking for sex.

"So it is Jack. What's it like, then?" Hart asked. "I mean, he's great in bed, don't get me wrong. And after who knows how many years—how old is he now?"

"Also none of your business," Ianto replied.

"After so many years, I imagine he's really refined his technique, even on this primitive little planet. And I'm thinking you're not nearly as stiff and buttoned-up as you come across. That's just you playing the part of Torchwood's sexy space butler."

Ianto cocked his head; space butler. He liked it.

"I bet you're wild in bed, and you and Jack are hot as a supernova. What I wouldn't give to join that party! Only he's not the commitment type, and I know this century is big on that stuff. Is that why you won't talk about it? You want something he can't give?"

"I won't talk about it because it's none of your business," Ianto told him for the third time, then proceeded to talk about it. "And maybe I'm not the commitment type either. This job doesn't leave much time for friends and families and happily ever after, in case you hadn't noticed. Maybe I'm in it for a bit of fun."

He sounded incredibly defensive, even to his own ears, and of course Hart picked up on it.

"Maybe," Hart said. "Good for you, then, because Jack is _a lot_ of fun. But he also has a way of making you want more," he added softly. Ianto blew out a breath, hating how easily Hart had voiced Ianto's biggest fear and desire. He turned around to look at him.

"He's immortal," Ianto said, as if that explained everything. "Which is why we're not like that. Now if you don't mind, can we stop talking about it and start working on getting you out of here?"

"Anything you say, Eye Candy," Hart replied. "But I think I know what's really going on."

"You don't have a clue what's really going on," Ianto replied wearily. Because he didn't know what was going on between him and Jack most of the time, which meant John Hart certainly didn't know either. "Now, tell me more about this watch you found, and I'll see if anything comes up in the database search."

As Hart described the watch to him, Ianto tried hard to set aside everything else the man had said. He'd inadvertently confirmed many of the things Ianto had always suspected about Jack, and Ianto found it bothered him more than he thought it would.

He knew Jack wasn't with him for something serious, because he knew Jack would leave one day, if Ianto didn't die first. It was why he hadn't gone to London with Jack, because that felt much more serious than spending time together in Cardiff. Yes, they went on dates, some of them even bordering on romantic, and they spent the night together, sometimes without even having sex if it had been a long night already. Jack had remembered his birthday, back in August, and given him a waistcoat and tie he'd admired at Marks and Spencer before taking him out for a wonderful dinner. He'd bought Ianto flowers after he'd taped up the SUV, and once set up so many candles in his bunker the smoke alarm had gone off. Ianto reciprocated, taking Jack to see old movies when they played, replacing Jack's lost Spitfire cufflinks after Jack had come back without them, and indulging some of his kinkier fantasies, much to both their pleasure.

It was still casual, though…wasn't it? The problem was, Ianto sometimes thought it might be more, and then something reminded him it wasn't. Only he was starting to want more, a real relationship and not a casual lover who sometimes acted like more. He wanted a partner, someone who was always there for him, who trusted him and believed in him, someone to laugh with and cry with, someone to take care of and love in return. Someone like Jack…but someone who could be all those things without running in terror and still fuck him into the mattress.

Ianto was getting used to not having what he wanted, though, so he set it aside once more and concentrated on getting John Hart and his endless prattle out of the Hub before Jack got back and things really got complicated.

* * *

Author's Note:

Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos on the first chapter! I hope the rest of the story lives up!


	3. Chapter 3

III.

Lunch was almost unbearable, with John Hart pacing around the sofa, constantly making comments about everything from Tosh's skirt again to Gwen's fiancé to Owen's strange undead state, which Ianto had reluctantly explained to him while they'd been working in the archives. He complained about being hungry, thirsty, tired, and horny. And of course there was a constant stream of remarks about Jack, as if he were deliberately trying to wind up Ianto with each and every comment. He tried not to let it get to him, but it was hard when Owen chimed in, as if sensing the topic of conversation.

Ianto had found only one or two references to pocket universes in the database, both of them from Torchwood One files on the Doctor, and neither referencing anything that looked or sounded like a watch of any sort. He had spent a long hour as intermediary between Tosh and Hart trying to explain more about them while editing the man's more colorful comments. She picked it up quick, but in the end had no idea what to do without the watch that actually housed the pocket universe trapping John Hart.

"Well, it's probably lying on the ground on Alpha Centauri," he grumbled.

"Why are you here, then?" she asked.

"I'm not really here," Hart replied. "My body is stuck in the pocket universe, which is in the watch on Alpha Centauri. The pocket universe is somehow connected to this time and place."

Ianto relayed this, then shook his head. "That still doesn't explain why I'm the only one who can see you."

"Because you're lucky, that's why," Hart grinned. "And I don't care why, I just want to get out of here. What about hitting me with a blast of artron energy? It might knock me out back into my own dimension."

Ianto relayed this to Tosh, who frowned. "Or it might vaporize you," she pointed out. "Besides, we have no way of generating artron energy. I only know about it from Jack."

"It wouldn't vaporize me, it's safe for humans, but it might destabilize the pocket universe enough to release me."

Tosh seemed skeptical. "I can run some scenarios on my computer, but without the capability of creating that sort of energetic pulse, I'm still not sure what to do."

"Could we harness it from the Rift?" Ianto asked.

Tosh looked frustrated. "I've picked it up from the Rift before, so yes—if we had the right technology."

"I swear, this is like the fucking Dark Ages," Hart muttered. Ianto ignored him.

"I'll do another sweep through the archives, see what we have that has to do with artron radiation—finding it, generating it, anything."

"Have you talked to Jack?" Gwen asked. "Maybe he knows something?"

Ianto checked his watch. "He's probably meeting with the Queen right now. We can—"

He was interrupted by a Rift alert going off. Tosh jumped up to check her computer.

"Something's come through, over by Roath Docks," she said. "Biological—and big."

Ianto jumped up, more than ready to get out of the Hub and get some fresh air, take his mind off Jack and John Hart and everything else that was going wrong with his week. "Gwen, Owen, let's go. Tosh, can you work your magic and talk us through it?"

"I can," she said, putting on her glasses and sitting down. "And I'll run some tests on the side."

He nodded his thanks, grabbed what he needed from his station, and headed toward the car park. He had the keys and kept them, preferring to drive. Owen and Gwen seemed to sense his mood and didn't say anything; he appreciated that, since he didn't usually order everyone around either.

He took the restricted roads and got them there in less than ten minutes, parking as near the readings as Tosh could direct him. Owen shifted to the driver's seat to remain behind with the SUV in case they needed him in an emergency, while Ianto and Gwen moved toward the shipping containers.

Fortunately, Tosh had cleared the area, so there were no civilian workers around. It was eerily quiet walking around the empty dock area in the middle of the day, until they heard a low growling nearby. They rounded a corner, weapons out, and saw a large creature going through a container packed full of food boxes. It was at least eight feet tall, covered in fur, and obviously agitated—or hungry.

"What the hell is it?" Ianto whispered as they stepped back.

"Shit," said Hart, standing beside him and glancing out again. "It's a Rasalka. Big, slow, and stupid. Can't see well either, but still really dangerous—hard to stop."

"What did he say?" asked Gwen. Ianto repeated exactly what Hart had told him. She rolled her eyes. "So what does that mean? Do we even try to talk to it if it can't see us or understand us?"

"Kill it," said Hart with unexpected vehemence.

"Stun it," Ianto told her, adjusting his stun gun to the highest setting. "You distract it, and I'll come up behind it."

"Is that what you and Jack do?" she asked, grinning at him in spite of the seriousness of the situation.

"Amongst other things," he winked, then nodded toward the alien. "When it comes to Weevils, it usually works."

"And here we thought Weevil-hunting was code for something else," she teased.

"Who says it isn't?" Ianto threw back. He was too hyped up on adrenaline to stop the words before they left his mouth. She grinned at him again.

"Ianto Jones, you naughty—"

"Yes, yes," he interrupted her. "Alien to catch. See you on the other side."

He moved as quickly and quietly as he could through the maze of shipping containers to get around the creature. When he was in place behind the Rasalka, which was now going through one of the smaller containers, he contacted Gwen on the comms.

She stepped out from her own hiding place as he snuck up behind the creature. It was big and solid, and Ianto wondered if his plan would work. The Rasalka saw Gwen, took a few steps toward her, then stopped and cocked its head. Ianto was close enough to hear it sniffing the air. It might not see well, but apparently it scented its prey. Gwen seemed to have picked up on the creature's distraction and started yelling at it, waving her arms to give Ianto a better chance of sneaking up behind it.

It turned back toward her, obviously confused by the noise. Ianto dashed out and pressed his stun gun to the alien's side…only for it to turn around, look at him in confusion, then swing a massive arm and toss him against the container before he even had a chance to back away.

He hit it hard enough to leave him stunned, and the thing was on him before he could stand, one large hand pressing against his throat while the other went right back to rummaging through the shipping container. Ianto struggled to pry off the furry fingers as his breath came in whistling gasps, but it was no use; it was squeezing his windpipe. He'd be unconscious in seconds, dead in minutes, and he only hoped Gwen didn't try to stun it as well, since the charge clearly had no effect.

"Kick it." Hart was next to him. "Stop struggling to breath, relax, and kick it in the chest. It's vulnerable there."

Ianto stared at him with wide eyes. How could he relax with a large hairy monster choking the life out of him? Hart leaned closer, his face angry. "Come on, Eye Candy! Stop thinking about it and do it! Relax and fight back!"

Ianto closed his eyes against Hart's onslaught. He thought he heard the sound of a shot, Gwen probably warning it off. "No, open your eyes, dammit. You can't die here, not now. That thing will kill your partner. And what about Jack? He doesn't want to come back from London and find your sorry arse in the morgue. Kick it!"

He shook his head, wishing Hart would stop, that the alien would finish him quick. Jack might come back to find him gone, but Jack had lost other lovers and would quickly move on. Better to die before Jack left him. Another shot rang out and the creature grunted, but the pressure didn't let up.

"If you die now, you'll take me with you and you will be stuck with me in the afterlife!" Ianto's eyes flew open in panic. Hart was shouting, waving his hands like he wanted to shake Ianto hard. "Kick it! God dammit, Ianto, kick it!"

It was the use of his first name that did it—that, and the idea of being stuck in the afterlife with John Hart. Ianto closed his eyes again. He relaxed his body, tucking his chin down and bringing his shoulders up; he felt the fingers around his neck release the slightest bit in surprise. He wheezed in one gasping breath, then used it to propel his feet up and into the creature's chest as hard as he could manage. He was shocked to hear a sickening crack, as if the alien's entire midsection had collapsed. It roared, standing up straight as it clutched at its chest. Then six shots rang out, and it fell to the ground, moaning with pain and rage.

Ianto rolled onto his side and started coughing as Gwen ran up to him. "Owen's on his way. Tosh said it's the only one, so we're safe. It's over."

He nodded as he tried to sit, but he couldn't stop coughing. He was aching from being thrown against the shipping container, and his throat burned like he'd swallowed fire. He'd never felt so glad to breathe, though, and took great gasping breaths to slow down his racing heart. Gwen steadied him, looking rattled.

Ianto glanced up at Hart, standing nearby and watching the alien. "Thanks," he said, his voice raspy. Hart looked uncomfortable.

"Couldn't have you die on me now," he said. He motioned toward the alien. "And you can't save it, so you should put it out of its misery."

Ianto looked toward the creature, its breathing clearly labored as it bled out on the pavement. He hated the idea, but he knew Hart was right: the creature was dying, and there was nothing they could do. He stood on shaky legs and took out his Sig Sauer. Disabling the safety, he staggered over to the creature and put three bullets into its head, ignoring Gwen's half-hearted protests. Owen ran up then and swore.

"This'll be fun to clean up," he grumbled.

"Interesting autopsy, though," Ianto replied, wondering why the creature was so vulnerable in its chest. His voice was gravely and rough, and he started coughing again.

"What happened?" Owen asked. "Gwen said it was throttling you."

Ianto tried to nod, but winced instead. Owen stepped up and started examining him. "Threw me at the shipping container and got me around the neck," Ianto managed. "But we need to—"

"We've got it," Owen said. "You go back to the SUV. Sit down, take deep slow breaths. There's water in the back—small sips—and you'll probably want to grab one of the portable ice packs so your neck doesn't swell up. I'll look you over back at the Hub."

"I should help—" Ianto started, then closed his eyes as a dizzy spell hit him. Owen grabbed him and sat him down on the ground, pressing his head between his knees.

"Never mind, you sit right there. Gwen, bring the SUV over so we can mop this up and get him back."

Gwen ran to the SUV while Owen leaned over the alien and examined it. Ianto raised his head and glanced around; John Hart was standing nearby, watching Owen and almost pointedly ignoring Ianto.

"Why're you so quiet?" Ianto asked. "I'd think you'd be taking the piss by now."

John turned toward him, hands tucked into dirty pockets. "I'm considering it."

Ianto snorted. "Right. Would you really go with me if I died?"

"I doubt it," Hart replied after a moment's thought. "But it got you moving, didn't it?"

"I don't know whether to hate you or thank you," Ianto replied, shaking his head and wincing again.

"You already thanked me. And I didn't do anything, Eye Candy. Just yelled at you to stop acting like a plonk."

"You told me its weak spot," Ianto pointed out.

"I also told you it was big, slow, and stupid," Hart replied. "I forgot it could smell you coming up behind it."

Ianto frowned; Hart actually sounded remorseful, like it was his fault Ianto had been attacked and he felt bad about it.

"Have you ever faced one before?" he asked. Hart nodded.

"Once. Killed my first partner, actually." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm glad you did one better. Watching history repeat itself is never fun, even for a Time Agent."

Ianto almost made a remark about Hart still living in the past, but held back. The other man was obviously remembering a difficult event in his life, and having been through enough losses of his own, Ianto wasn't about to make jokes, even at Hart's expense. And he was too exhausted.

"You all right?" Hart asked quietly.

"I'll be fine," Ianto replied, but he really wanted to lay down, so he did. His chest felt tight, like he couldn't get enough air. It vaguely occurred to him that something was probably wrong, that he should call for Owen, or at least hang on until Gwen came back with the SUV so he could lay down on the seats and get that ice pack…but he was too tired. Even John Hart yelling more insults at him couldn't convince him to stay awake. In fact, maybe if he closed his eyes, he would fall asleep, wake up, and the infuriating man would be gone. He dimly heard Owen running over, kneeling next to him while also shouting insults at him.

"Don't tell Jack," he said before he gave in to the darkness.

* * *

When Ianto woke up, he was back at the Hub in the recovery room next to the medical bay. It was dark and quiet, and a monitor beeped quietly above him. He was extremely sore and somewhat disoriented; how had he got there?

"Good morning again," drawled John Hart, standing at the foot of his bed. "Or rather, good evening. Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Why, did I die?" Ianto grumbled. It was the second time he'd woken up to John Hart staring at him in bed, and he was definitely getting tired of it.

"I don't think so. Your grumpy doctor did some fancy medical stuff and got you breathing again. Very exciting."

Ianto sighed. "For you, maybe. What happened, exactly?"

Hart shrugged. "Your trachea swelled up so much you couldn't breathe. You were already crashing after a massive adrenaline surge, so you lost consciousness pretty quick. He shot you up with something to bring down the swelling, iced it, gave you lots of oxygen, and said you should be as good as new in a few days. Minus the bruises, sore throat, and occasional cough."

"How do you know all that?" Ianto asked in astonishment.

Hart shrugged. "I was standing right there the whole time. And we had medical training at the Time Agency. I can treat injuries almost as well as I can create them."

Ianto moved slowly into a sitting position. There was a bottle of water on the table next to him and he sipped slowly. His throat still burned, but he swallowed anyway, hoping it would help.

"Where is everyone?" he asked.

Hart started walking around the small recovery room. "Harper's working on that alien, he couldn't wait to take a look at it. The girls went out to get some dinner."

"I've been out that long?" Ianto asked. He was tempted to throw his legs over the table and start moving, but at the same time, he sort of wanted to stay in bed and go back to sleep.

"All afternoon, sleeping beauty," Hart grinned. "Which means I've been here the entire time, bored stiff."

"I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry," Ianto grumbled. "Have they made any progress on your little problem?"

Hart shook his head. "Your cute techie ran some tests, and she thinks a blast of artron energy should do the trick. The problem is creating one."

"I'll check the archives," Ianto murmured, closing his eyes.

"Cooper looked," Hart told him. "She didn't find anything."

"She doesn't know how to look," Ianto told him. "I do. The archives are my job. If it's there, I'll find it."

"And if it's not?" Hart asked.

"Then we keep searching," Ianto snapped. "I'm not spending the rest of my life with you looking over my shoulder."

"And as much as I enjoy the view, I'd like to get back to my own time," Hart grumbled. He sat down in a nearby chair; not for the first time, Ianto wondered how someone who wasn't actually there could physically use the furniture.

"I'd like to go home," Ianto murmured, mostly to himself. He wanted to go back to his flat, crawl into bed, and sleep until morning. Eight hours of blissful peace and quiet, free of John Hart, was exactly what he needed after almost being choked to death. But he suspected it would be a while before he got it.

"So Jack called," Hart offered. Ianto's eyes flipped open.

"Did they tell him?" he asked without thinking, then regretted it when Hart smirked.

"Depends on what you mean—tell him about you, tell him about me, or tell him about you and me?" Hart waggled his eyebrows.

"There is no you and me," Ianto pointed out. "And I just don't want Jack to worry about anything."

"Because you're shagging him," Hart said. Ianto rolled his eyes.

"I thought we pretty much established that this morning."

"That's right!" Hart exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "When you told me it was just a bit of fun."

Ianto didn't reply.

"Thing is," Hart continued. "I don't think that's the case. I've been watching and listening all day—to you, your little team. And none of you talk like you and Jack are just fuck buddies. You get defensive every time it comes up, and the others—well, that was interesting. I think they forgot I was around."

"They don't know what they're talking about," Ianto replied with as nonchalant a shrug as he could manage. Hart saw right through him.

"Probably not," he agreed. "But they seem to think there's more going on between you and Jack, they're just not sure how serious it is. Every time the good doctor made a snide comment, little Tosh stuck up for you. Even Cooper was wondering why you weren't in London with Jack, and she's clearly got the hots for him"

Ianto ignored that last as Hart stood and sauntered up to Ianto. "What's going on then, Eye Candy? You're not just shagging around the office if he spends the night at yours and leaves his stuff laying around your flat."

Ianto blew out a long breath. "Why does it matter to you?" he asked, hoping to change the subject.

Hart appeared to actually think about it. "Because I knew Jack, I knew what made him tick. What turned him on, what turned him off. He's not that man anymore."

"And you want to know what happened?" Ianto asked, sounding skeptical. "Because I can't tell you—that's his story."

"I want to know why he's not out among the stars!" Hart exclaimed. "Why he's not taking what he can take, ruling like a god. He's three thousand years in the past—and he can't die! Why is he wallowing in a dreary little city on a backwards planet in the middle of Mutter's Spiral?"

Ianto often wondered the same thing, but he wasn't about to let Hart know. And it wasn't really about Jack, not for John. Ianto grinned as he realized John Hart wasn't curious—he was jealous. "I see what's really going on here. You want to know why he left you—and why he won't go back with you."

"I could show him the wonder of the galaxy!" Hart said, shaking his head. "We could be kings."

Ianto sat up straighter. "I'll tell you why," he said. "He grew up. He moved on. He evolved." He went in for the dig. "And you can't accept that, because you can't even begin to understand why someone wouldn't want to spend their life lying and cheating and stealing for a living, never knowing if they'll be killed that day or the next day, never settling down."

"I really can't," Hart agreed. "It sounds like a nightmare. And it's not like Jack, not the man I knew. You know he doesn't do commitment."

"I know," Ianto said, trying not to let his own regret show. "And he has his reasons…but he's committed to this planet, to this city and the people he's protecting. This is his home now."

"The Time Agency was his home," Hart said. "And we did protect people. We protected time!"

"And then something happened," Ianto pointed out. "You said they were disbanded. And I know they did something to Jack, that's why he left."

Hart seemed to deflate somewhat. "They really screwed him," he said softly. "I don't blame him for leaving, but it's past time he came back."

"I don't see why it's so hard to believe something like that could change him as a person, and that he would want to stay because of it."

"Because Jack went through a lot of shit," Hart said, his voice harsh. "And he didn't run away, didn't hide, didn't go soft."

"Is that what you think he's doing here?" Ianto said, actually laughing out loud. "Hiding? Going soft?"

"I have no fucking idea," Hart replied, his voice flat. "But it sure seems like it."

"Because you're stuck in the past, in your past with Jack. He moved on and built a respectable life for himself, and you didn't."

Hart was starting to look angry. "I have a life, Eye Candy—and a better one than some two-bit office hussy sleeping with the boss."

"I'm not—" Ianto started, then stopped himself, refusing to rise to the bait. Hart was half right, after all. "Fine, I'm a two-bit office hussy sleeping with the boss. " He smirked. "The sex is amazing, though."

Hart opened his mouth to retort, shut it, then shook his head and laughed. "Touché," he said. He wandered around the room again, and Ianto closed his eyes, hoping it was over. It wasn't. "So what's the real story then? How long have you been sleeping together if he's practically living with you?"

Ianto opened his eyes but didn't answer right away. Hart rolled his eyes. "I'm not looking for the sordid details. At this point I'm just making conversation."

"A year," Ianto finally replied. "Though we're not living together."

"Sure looked like it," Hart pointed out. "And that was long before I showed up looking for those diamonds."

He had no idea why he was talking to Hart about it; maybe he'd hit his head. "It really was just shagging around the office back then."

"And then it wasn't?" Hart suggested. "How romantic." He stuck out his tongue and pretended to gag.

"And then Jack left the planet for several months," Ianto told him. "And when he came back, the day you showed up, things changed."

"Right," Hart drawled. "Candlelight dinners, long walks on the beach, all the usual trappings of this sentimental century, I assume?"

Ianto smiled, thinking about some of their better dates. "Something like that. And that drives you mad, doesn't it?"

"That he's with a gormless git like you?" Hart asked, but Ianto could tell there was little venom behind the words. "Not at all. He's obviously changed, and he can have you if he wants you. What I don't get is why you keep downplaying it, why you won't admit anything about it."

"What's there to admit?" Ianto asked. "Yes, I'm sleeping with him. I admitted it this morning."

"Why didn't you go to London with him?" Hart asked. "Why haven't you told him about me?"

"We're a small team, we can't afford to be two men down," Ianto replied. "And Jack can't afford to be distracted in London. He's meeting with just about every agency with an acronym there is, as well as the Queen."

"No, it's more than that," Hart insisted. "Did you have a row?"

"No."

"You haven't called him all day. Are you still shagging? Still a couple?"

Ianto pursed his lips and shook his head. "It's not like that," he said. Hadn't he already gone through this with Hart? And Owen? And Gwen? And even Martha?

"For you or for Jack?" Hart asked. He grinned when Ianto didn't answer. "You throw a curveball, I'll throw one right back."

"They have baseball in the future?" Ianto asked dryly, pretending to be surprised.

"No, but we do have relationships," Hart snarked back. "Or, other people do. And I think you and Jack—"

He was interrupted by Owen appearing then.

"Thought I heard you talking to yourself." The doctor came into the room, glanced at the monitors, and started examining Ianto. "Hart giving you a hard time?"

"Nothing I can't handle," Ianto murmured.

"Better you than me," Owen said. "Jack called while you were out of it. I told him you got yourself killed by an alien."

Ianto shot up while John Hart burst out laughing. "You what?"

"Relax, teaboy," Owen grinned. "I told him it knocked you around and pissed you off so much you shot it in the head."

"What happened to doctor-patient privacy?" Ianto grumbled, and the doctor held up his hands.

"Jack's the boss, he needed to know. I don't know why you didn't want us to tell him anyway. He wanted to talk to you, but I said you were sleeping it off."

"And what about our other issue?" Ianto asked, ignoring the implications of Jack knowing he'd been injured.

"Your ghost friend?" Owen asked. "Didn't say a word. You can tell him Hart's back yourself. Although I don't think he's going to be happy."

"Told you he was pissed at you," Ianto said to Hart, who shook his head.

"Throw a man off the roof and suddenly he hates you," he said. "Some people."

"No, if I had to guess, he's going to be pissed at _you_ ," Owen said to Ianto. "Which was another reason I wasn't going to tell him about Hart. He practically jumped down my throat about your injury. He's going to go ballistic when he learns about Hart—and that you didn't tell him."

"Thanks, Owen," Ianto sighed. "But Jack won't be back until tomorrow afternoon, so we can get rid of him by then. We've got all night."

Owen shook his head. "No way. The girls went to get something to eat, then you're going home. Doctor's orders. Gwen said she'd drop you off and tie you to the sofa if you try to get up."

"Kinky," Hart murmured. "Didn't think she had it in her."

"Owen, we need to—"

"Tosh and I will keep on this pocket universe thing. Artron energy, right?" Ianto nodded. "Gwen didn't find anything, but we're better than her, so we'll keep looking." He paused. "And you should call Jack."

"It's fine, Owen," Ianto told him.

"Jack wasn't," Owen pointed out. "Call him. You're shagging him so you may as well let him know your dick didn't fall off."

"I knew it," John Hart said, sounding triumphant.

"Shut up," Ianto replied.

"You're a couple. He's worried about you and everything."

"As an injured team member, that's all."

"As more," Hart said.

"Sod off."

"Hart?" asked Owen.

"Hart," Ianto replied wearily.

The alarm on the cog door went off then, and they heard Tosh and Gwen calling for them in the main part of the Hub. Ianto decided he'd try to eat something—soup only, Owen had said—and then he'd go home as ordered. He was tired and sore, but more than that, he wanted to be out of the Hub, away from anyone or anything that reminded him of Jack.

The problem was, his flat would remind him of Jack as well, and John Hart would never let up. Sooner or later Ianto would have to call Jack and tell him about the alien and John Hart. And then face the fact that maybe John Hart was right: maybe it was more. Only maybe it was more for Ianto, but not for Jack.

* * *

Author's Note:

Many thanks to Avaantares for helping me throttle Ianto properly. Any mistakes in regards to artron energy, aliens, medical treatment, and the docks in Cardiff are my own.


	4. Chapter 4

IV.

Ianto leaned back against the sofa and tried to get comfortable. It had been an exceptionally difficult and draining day. His arm still hurt from the previous day's injury, his neck was bruised and sore, and he had a raging headache from babysitting John Hart all day, not to mention being throttled by an alien gorilla. He closed his eyes with a sigh, tuning out the sound of _Star Wars_ playing on the television; he'd already dozed through the first half, and could certainly sleep through the rest.

"This is brilliant," John exclaimed yet again. "No wonder Jack loves this time so much. The films are amazing."

"It's thirty years old," Ianto murmured, his eyes still closed. "Movies have changed a lot since then."

"Oh, but this is classic," Hart enthused. "You've got the spunky princess and the cocky space pirate who helps rescue her, the innocent farmboy who's probably going to get his arse handed to him at some point, plus that delicious looking Wookie—"

Ianto's eyes flipped open. "Seriously?" he asked, though he shouldn't have been surprised. "You fancy the walking carpet?"

"You don't think Solo's shagging his copilot?" John asked. "Because I'd be all over that."

Ianto stood and left the room. "You've ruined _Star Wars_ for me. I need a drink."

He poured himself a glass of scotch, leaned against the counter and sipped it slowly, both wincing at and relishing the burn in his throat. In truth, he was feeling sorry for himself. He'd been stuck with John Hart all day, and it had tested him in ways he hadn't wanted to be tested. Yes, Hart was an annoying, infuriating jerk, but sometimes…sometimes his comments hit too close to the mark. Especially when it came to Jack.

Ianto knew he should have called Jack and told him about John Hart; he still should call Jack, tell him he was all right after almost being throttled by a Rasalka. Only he'd been determined to get rid of Hart on his own, then he'd been busy, then he'd been unconscious. And now he didn't want to interrupt whatever Jack might be doing in London, in a posh hotel room, at 9 o'clock at night.

Swearing under his breath, Ianto slammed the rest of his drink and tried not to think about whatever that was. Only there was a knock at the door, followed by another, and somehow Ianto knew it was not one of his neighbors looking for a cup of sugar.

He rubbed his face, ran a hand through his messy hair, and went to the door. John was still lounging on the floor engrossed in the final attack on the Death Star. Ianto took a deep breath and opened the door, hoping and dreading that his visitor might be…

Jack.

Jack grinned at him, the warm smile Ianto tried not to let himself think meant anything. Jack smiled a lot, for all kinds of reasons, and in many different ways. That his smile was genuine for Ianto didn't mean anything special and certainly didn't make his heart race after three days away.

"Hi!" Jack exclaimed. "I checked in at the Hub, but Owen said you'd gone home for the night, so I thought I'd surprise…" He trailed off, probably at the wide-eyed look on Ianto's face. "Everything okay?" he asked slowly. Ianto nodded. "Can I come in?" Ianto frowned, then nodded again, reluctantly letting Jack through the door.

"You aren't…" Jack stopped himself. "Are you…" He tried again. "Is this a bad time?"

Ianto nodded again, his eyes slipping toward the television, where John Hart was standing up and smirking at them now, the movie forgotten behind him. Jack followed his glance.

"Do you have company?" Jack asked. "Because I feel like I'm interrupting more than a _Star Wars_ marathon."

"No," Ianto replied, probably too quickly.

"Hey!" John exclaimed. "What am I, chopped liver?"

Ianto literally bit his tongue to keep from replying. Jack frowned, then reached out to gently touch Ianto's neck. "The Rasalka?" he asked quietly. Ianto nodded. "What happened?"

"Not what you think," Ianto said, rubbing at one of the bruises. "If that's what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking it choked you pretty hard," Jack replied, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. "Unless that's the biggest love bite this side of Cardiff."

"Nope, definitely choked," Ianto said. "And I'm fine, really. What are you doing here?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I wanted to come back early. I was worried and thought I'd surprise you."

"I'm surprised," Ianto replied. "Definitely surprised." Behind him, John was rolling his eyes and groaning.

"You don't seem happy to be surprised," Jack offered, sounding unsure of himself. "I can go back to the Hub if…" He shrugged. "You know, if you have company."

"I already told you, I don't," Ianto said, ignoring Hart's protests.

"You're acting kind of weird then," Jack replied.

Ianto let his head sink back to the wall. "I'm just tired—tired and sore. I got choked by the Rasalka after it threw me into a shipping container at the docks. Owen checked me out, said I was fine."

"Then why aren't you inviting me in?" Jack asked. "You're hiding something, I can tell. You're usually much better at it, but you weren't expecting me so I caught you off guard. If there's someone else, I can go." He didn't sound happy, though, and Ianto wondered about that, whether it would bother Jack if Ianto did have someone in his bed.

"There's no one else here, Jack," Ianto said, standing straight with a sigh. "Not exactly."

"Finally!" John huffed. "A little bit of acknowledgement."

"Do you mind?" Ianto sighed wearily.

"Mind what?" Jack asked, looking confused. "Ianto, what's going on?"

"You probably won't even believe me when I tell you."

"Are you okay?" Jack asked, and he sounded genuinely concerned. "Were you injured anywhere else?" He eyed Ianto up and down, noticed the wrap on his forearm. "What happened to your arm?

Ianto waved his arm. "Got swiped by a Weevil yesterday, choked by a Rasalka today. Not the best week so far."

Jack stepped closer and held out his hand. Ianto frowned at it, then took it and held tight, suddenly wanting to let it all go. Jack pulled him into an embrace, and Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack's waist.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked. "Let me help."

"Aw," said John. "How absolutely revolting."

Ianto stood back and pointed his finger at John. "You stay out of it. You've already caused enough trouble today."

"I saved your arse!" John pointed out. "You're lucky I was there."

"Don't remind me," Ianto muttered. Jack's hand touched his face, turning him toward Jack, who looked one step short of terrified.

"Who are you talking to?" Jack asked quietly. "Tell me what's going on."

"I'm not going crazy, if that's what you're thinking," Ianto started, stepping away from Jack completely. He motioned toward John, even though Jack clearly couldn't see the other man. "Tosh confirmed it, there is something there, but we don't know how to get rid of him."

"Him who?" Jack asked. Now he looked wary, glancing all over Ianto's flat as if he could see whatever Ianto was talking about.

Ianto blew out a breath. "John Hart is trapped in a pocket universe that's following me around."

Jack's mouth moved a few times. "What?"

Ianto took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen.

"Another drink?" Hart asked. "You might have a problem, mate."

"Shut up," said Ianto, pouring one anyway, and then another for Jack. "It's your fault."

Jack took the glass but set it down, eyeing him funny. "Explain to me how John Hart ended up in a pocket universe that's following you around."

Ianto snorted into his glass. "I have no idea, I really don't. I woke up and he was in my bed." Jack's eyes went wide. "Not like that! Christ, this is worse than I even imagined was possible." He took a big sip and set the glass down. "I woke up, and there he was. Right next to me, completely transparent. And he's not dead, I asked," Ianto added.

"Okay," Jack nodded slowly. "Go on."

"He said he was hired to find something. Apparently it was a pocket watch, and it reminded him of my stopwatch. When he opened it, he got sucked into a pocket universe, and somehow ended up following me around!" Grabbing his glass, he almost finished it, then decided he was already feeling the first and needed a glass of water instead. He downed it while Jack watched.

"What?" Ianto asked. "It's insane, I know, but I promise it's the truth. It has been the longest day of my life, spending it with that man following me everywhere!"

"It couldn't have been that bad," Hart said, sounding sulky. "At least it wasn't completely boring. And I did save your life, after all."

Ianto rolled his eyes.

"So he's here, in the room right now?" Jack asked, watching him closely. Ianto pointed to where John was standing. Jack stared at the empty space. John walked right up to him and made kissing noises.

"Hey!" said Ianto. "Stop it."

"Possessive, aren't we?" John murmured, stepping back. "Tell Jack I said hi and that my offer still stands."

"What offer?" Ianto asked.

Jack shook his head. "The glitter of the galaxy. Tell him no way. This is where I belong now."

"He can hear you," Ianto told him. He wondered about Hart's offer, but put it from his mind. He could ask Jack about it later, but he wouldn't. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what John Hart had offered Jack.

John Hart was standing next to Ianto, studying Jack. "Oh, is that what's going on? He's sticking around for _you_?"

Ianto whirled on him. "Shut up."

"You keep saying that and yet I don't feel like it," Hart replied. "Come on, is that why he's here, living this pathetic life on your little rock in the middle of nowhere? All for you?"

"No," Ianto ground out. "I don't know why."

"Why what?" Jack asked.

Ianto shook his head went back to the living room. Both men followed him.

"What's he saying?" Jack asked. Ianto threw his hands in the air.

"It's driving me mad," he exclaimed. "The constant prattling and leering, name-calling and insults. I don't know how you were ever with him—he's a liar and a murderer and the most annoying person I've ever met!"

Jack pulled him close again. "I was a different person back then. You probably wouldn't have liked me much either."

"You're nothing like him," Ianto muttered into Jack's shoulder. "You're a good person, Jack."

"I wasn't always," Jack said quietly. "Why do you think I don't talk about my past much?"

"Because it's actually the future," Ianto answered. Jack laughed and squeezed him tight, placing a kiss to his temple.

"That too," he said, smiling warmly. "But I…I did things I'm not proud of, things I'm ashamed of. That's why I don't talk about a lot of it."

"Give me a break," Hart muttered nearby. "He liked it all well enough at the time. It was dangerous, it was exciting, it was—"

"Wrong," Ianto finished for him. "And it's over. Stop trying to bring it back."

John crossed his arms over his chest, eerily similar to Jack when he was feeling defensive. "And why not?"

"Because it's time to move on," Ianto said, gaining a sudden insight into John Hart's stubborn immorality. "The Time Agency is disbanded, Jack is living in another time. Stop trying to relive the glories of your past. Find a new life for yourself, a better life, unless you like running con after con, lying and stealing and barely surviving."

Jack was looking at him in surprise, but Hart looked annoyed.

"Oh, Eye Candy, look at you with the masterful play at psychology." He raised an eyebrow. "You can't keep your own head on straight, but you'll have a go at mine?"

"It's easy," Ianto snapped. "You're messed up."

"And so are you, sweetheart," Hart snapped back. "Look at him, he came back because he was worried about you, because he wanted to surprise you, yet you kept this from him all day and could barely tell him even though he knew you were hiding something."

"I didn't want to bother him!" Ianto shouted, then immediately ducked his head and swore.

"I'm sorry," he said, talking to Jack. "We have to figure out how to get him back to wherever he's from before I do something desperate."

"Like maybe ask for help?" Jack suggested dryly, though there was an undercurrent of hurt to his tone.

"I did ask for help!" Ianto exclaimed. "I told the others first thing this morning, and we've been working on it all day…" He trailed off as he realized his mistake.

"All day? Why didn't you call me?" Jack asked. "Because you didn't want to bother me?"

Ianto nodded, swallowing hard. "I wanted to figure it out before you got back tomorrow. I didn't want to interrupt anything."

Jack stepped closer and took his arm. "That's why you didn't say anything when you were hurt yesterday? Or today? Because you didn't want to interrupt some impossibly dull meeting?"

"Something like that," Ianto muttered, scrubbing his face and thinking he hadn't wanted to interrupt something very different.

"You can tell me things," Jack said. "I know none of this was your fault."

Ianto laughed bitterly through his nose; in trying to keep it from Jack, he'd quite possibly made it worse. "Look, I'm sorry—I didn't say anything, and I should have, especially when things went tits up. But I didn't expect you back tonight. Why are you back early?"

"Don't try to deflect," Jack said. "What's going on? Why you didn't say anything sooner?"

"Oh Eye Candy, this is much better than _Star Wars_! The secrets, the lies!" Hart clapped his hands together. "Please, tell him what's going on."

"Stay out of it," Ianto hissed at him. "There's nothing to tell."

Hart strode up to them and started circling Jack. "You're scared, Eye Candy. Even I can see it now, and I'm a sociopathic twat. You didn't tell him because you're too scared."

"Ianto?" asked Jack. Ianto couldn't look at him; he was transfixed by John Hart in the worst way possible, because Hart was right.

"You were too scared to call him because you don't want to look weak and didn't want him to leave you. And you don't want him to leave you because you actually care about him—only you won't admit that it's more than shagging, which is why you didn't go with him to London."

"No," Ianto whispered. He stepped up to John and shoved his hands at him. They went right through, and Hart flinched, shaking himself with a curse.

"For once, I'm right, and you know it. So bloody well tell him what I just spelled out for you!"

"This three-way conversation is annoying," Jack muttered. "What's he saying?"

"Nothing," Ianto lied.

"Tell him," said John.

"Stop it!"

"Tell him or I will!" Hart pulled out his wrist strap and began pushing buttons.

"You wouldn't!" Ianto exclaimed. "You can't—you're trapped, you're in a pocket universe and only I can hear you."

"Want to take that chance?" Hart asked. "Bloody well tell him the truth."

"There's nothing to tell," Ianto snapped. "Because it doesn't matter."

"You care about him, Eye Candy, and something tells me he cares about you, too."

Ianto shook his head. "There's absolutely no way you could know that, so stop giving me relationship advice!"

"Whoa, are you talking about me?" asked Jack.

"No," said Ianto, while John said, "Yes."

"What's he saying?" Jack asked quietly, with that underlying tone of command that Ianto found so hard to resist. But not impossible.

"Nothing," Ianto said again. "It's not important." John huffed next to him.

"It sounds like it is," said Jack. "What doesn't matter?"

"Tell him."

Ianto's eyes slipped closed. He took a deep breath, shook his head, and turned away before he lost it. He headed toward the bedroom, needing some sort of escape from John Hart's taunting words and Jack's pleading eyes. 21rw

"If you've hurt him," Jack told John Hart behind him, "I will end you the moment you step out of whatever dimension you're hiding in. Leave him alone." The last was growled, and Ianto heard Jack's footsteps, following him down the hallway and into the bedroom. He tried to make it to the ensuite, but Jack shut the bedroom door, reached for his hand, and held tight.

"Ianto, stop, please," he said. "I'm sorry that he's hurting you, that he's making you upset."

"It's not your fault," Ianto replied with a shrug. "He's an arsehole. I just need a break from it."

"Yes, he is," Jack agreed. "And whatever he said to you, whatever he told you about me…it's not true."

Ianto let his head fall to his chest and blew out a long breath. "I know," he said softly. "And that's the problem. Sometimes I wish it was."

"What?" Jack asked, completely confused. "What did he say?"

"It doesn't matter," Ianto repeated. It was his mantra some days.

"It does matter!" Jack exclaimed. "I want to know what he said that's got you so upset!"

Ianto pursed his lips, determined to keep the words inside. And yet, he couldn't, not anymore. John Hart had exposed him too thoroughly.

"He thinks that you're staying here for me. That you came home early for me. That you care about me."

Jack looked stunned for a moment, and then his face softened and he stepped forward to wrap his arms around Ianto. "Then I take it back. He was right."

"Jack, it's—"

Jack stopped him with a kiss.

"Don't—"

And another.

"He's probably right there leering—"

"He's not," Jack said, brushing his fingers along Ianto's cheek. He kissed Ianto again, long and deep and passionate, before moving toward his jaw and murmuring in his ear. "I missed this," he said. Ianto laughed nervously, certain they were being watched. Jack pulled back and gazed into his eyes. "I missed _you_."

"You don't have to say that," Ianto said softly, wanting so badly to believe Jack. Jack might have missed him—Jack did seem to like him and enjoy spending time with him—but he hadn't come back for Ianto, not really. He came back for Torchwood, and stayed because Cardiff was the only home he'd known for over a hundred years.

"I came back to Earth for you, to be with you," Jack said, punctuating his words with kisses along Ianto's jaw. "I stayed because I like what we have, and it means something. I came home early because I was worried, and because I missed you. When are you going to believe me?"

"I can't," Ianto murmured, shaking his head.

"You mean you won't," Jack said. He sounded more sad than upset.

"No, I _can't_ ," Ianto repeated.

"Why?"

"Because that would mean this…us…is something it's not, something it can never be." Ianto took a deep breath. "I can't believe that because I…in six months, or a year…I don't want to lose it. Lose you—or lose myself."

"You can't lose what you never had?" asked Jack.

"Yes." Ianto stepped away. "I'm sorry."

Jack crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at Ianto before shaking his head. "No," he said. "I don't accept it."

"What?" Ianto asked, slightly surprised at Jack's sudden change in attitude; he'd been all over the map, from concerned to disappointed to sad, and now seemed…not angry, but determined. Determined to what?

"I don't accept it," Jack repeated. "What you just said. I'm not doing it."

"Doing what?" Ianto asked, completely confused. Jack grinned somewhat wolfishly as he took a step forward, arms hanging loose at his side, but his step tightly coiled, as if ready to pounce. Ianto stepped backward, feeling stalked.

"I'm not doing whatever it is you think we're doing," Jack replied. "I'm here because I want to be here. I'm with you because I want to be with you. And I want to be with you for as long as I have."

"You have forever," Ianto said quietly. "I don't."

"Then I will stay with you for as long as _you_ have. He's right. I do care about you."

Ianto stared at him, his heart racing. "But you don't…" He started, unable or unwilling to finish the sentence.

"Do you?" Jack asked. Ianto looked away.

"I could," he whispered. There. He'd said it. That's what he was most afraid of—not of being weak, or of being left behind one day, though those things certainly terrified him as well. Deep down, he was afraid of love, because in his experience it only brought pain. Loving Jack would only bring more.

Jack reached out and gently turned his face back. He was smiling, happiness clear in his eyes. "Me too, so I don't see the problem. If it's one thing I've learned since I left, it's that I can't always be afraid of the future. Like you said—I have forever, and that's a long time to be afraid. A long time to be alone. Not when the present is what I want."

He moved closer, and this time Ianto did not pull away. Jack laid his hands on Ianto's hips, rested his forehead against Ianto. "What do you want?" he whispered.

Ianto couldn't answer with words; they would never come, they might not ever fall from his lips. He still couldn't believe that Jack was there, saying these things…but he _wanted_ to believe. So he leaned forward and kissed Jack, hoping to convey without words what he felt. Jack smiled against his lips and kissed him back, the kiss growing deeper and more passionate, their hands beginning to roam across shoulders and over hips towards buttons and belts.

Turning them toward the bed, Ianto tugged Jack closer, then tumbled him down and leaned over him, relishing the chance to show Jack how much his words meant. He began undoing Jack's shirt, while Jack's hands moved toward Ianto's trousers, both of them moaning at the touch. Which was when Ianto remembered something.

"He's still here," he murmured against Jack's neck. "In the flat."

"He won't bother us," Jack replied, his hands moving along Ianto's arse.

"Of course I will," Hart drawled from nearby. Ianto glanced up to see the other man lounging against the closet. "But by all means, continue. This show's only going to get better."

Ianto sat up, leaving Jack alone on the bed and groaning in disappointment.

"You're such a wanker," he snapped. Hart held up his hands.

"And I was right. Say it and I'll leave. I was right."

Ianto stared at him, furious at the man's utter gall. Then Jack's hand reached up to caress his cheek, and all the tension left his body in one shuddering rush. Yes, Hart was right. And maybe that was okay. Maybe it was time to admit how he felt—hell, he practically _had_ admitted it to Jack moments earlier, and Jack had said some very intense things himself. Maybe this was a risk Ianto could take after all.

"Don't let him get to you," Jack murmured. "This is not about him."

Ianto leaned down and kissed him. "I know," he said. He sat up again and turned toward John Hart. "You were right," he finally admitted. "And you know what? That's fine, because I'm okay with that now. I may be afraid of what the future might bring, but I'm not so afraid that I'm going to forget to live in the present."

"Here, here," Jack murmured, running his hands along Ianto's chest and pulling him down for another long kiss. He knew Hart was watching, but that didn't bother him. Curiously enough, he felt freer than he had in a long time. He'd accepted something he'd been trying not to think about for weeks, and it felt surprisingly right.

Hart was watching them with a look of both longing and disgust. He finally shook his head.

"Glad that's over then," he said. "And since I am actually capable of keeping my promises, I'm leaving. If you wouldn't mind starting the next movie, though, I'd like to know what happens to the Wookie." He turned to leave, then paused. "And turn the sound up, I bet you're a screamer." Without another look back, he walked through the door to the living room.

Ianto couldn't help but burst out laughing. Jack looked at him with such a fond look on his face that Ianto kissed him again, still grinning, before he sat up and moved off the bed. He buttoned his trousers so they wouldn't fall down, but didn't bother with his open shirt.

"Where're you going?" Jack asked, leaning up on his elbows. "You've still got everything we need in the side table, right?"

Ianto nodded. "I'm putting on _The Empire Strikes Back_ for John," he said. "I'll be right back, and I except to find you undressed and ready to go."

Jack sat up with a grin. "I'm already ready," he said. "But I'll work on the first!"

"Don't start the rest without me," Ianto told him.

"Yes, sir!" Jack replied with a wink and a salute.

Ianto hurried into the living room to start the movie for John, who was already sitting on the floor. He changed the DVD without a word, started the film, and turned back to his bedroom, still surprisingly unconcerned that John Hart was in his flat while he was half undressed and getting ready to have sex with Jack in the next room.

"Thanks, Eye Candy," Hart said. "I appreciate the distraction."

"You're welcome," Ianto replied. "And I suppose I appreciate the kick in the arse."

Hart glanced backward at Ianto. "I heard what he said, you know. I think he means it."

"Maybe," Ianto conceded. Hart gave him a thoughtful look.

"Good enough for now?" he asked. Ianto shook his head.

"No, just good," he said softly.

"Then go enjoy yourself," Hart said, motioning him away. "I won't interrupt."

Ianto nodded, but did not reply. He mostly believed Hart, but even if Hart did walk in on him and Jack, it didn't matter. Because Jack had come back for him, and Jack stayed for him, and that meant something.

"Good night," he murmured, turning to leave.

"Jones?" Hart called before he walked away. "Want to watch the next one later?"

Ianto glanced back at his bedroom, then at the ghostly figure on his living room floor. For the first time, Hart actually looked lonely. "Might do," he said. "Jack loves it."

"Then bring him along," Hart said. He leered, but it wasn't like the earlier ones. "Maybe we can figure out a threesome."

Ianto laughed and walked away. "Keep dreaming!" he called back.

"You know I will!"

Ianto stepped back into his bedroom, where Jack was lounging naked against the headboard. He'd turned off the lights and lit Ianto's one and only candle; soft music was coming from somewhere, probably his wrist strap. Ianto felt his breath catch. Jack was gorgeous, and he was home early, and he was there with Ianto.

He stood up and walked toward Ianto. Standing before him, proudly erect, Jack began to undress Ianto, slowly and seductively, every touch sending sparks of pleasure through Ianto's tired and sore body. He forgot about his injuries, about his insecurities, and thought only about Jack's hands touching him, exploring him. And he in turn let his hands roam over Jack's body, delighting in every shiver and moan.

They fell onto to the bed once more, skin against skin, and took their time with one another, enjoying every kiss, every caress, laced with more meaning than ever before. His climax was one of the most intense he'd experienced with Jack, and Ianto knew it was because something had changed between them, however unintentional, however subtle. He suspected they would go right back to hiding their feelings soon enough, but for one night, Ianto had everything he wanted, and he only wished it could last forever.

* * *

Author's Note:

This is one of those chapters that has me biting my nails. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

V.

"You never came back for the last movie."

Ianto opened bleary eyes to find John Hart watching him in bed yet again. He turned toward Jack, only Jack was gone. Sitting up quickly, he bit back a moan as sore muscles protested the sudden movement. He was about to ask Hart what he'd done with Jack when the other man smirked.

"Relax, Eye Candy," he said, cocking his head toward the other room. "He's making breakfast." He sighed. "Christ, what I wouldn't give for something to eat."

Ianto threw his feet over the side of the bed and pulled on some more clothes before walking out to the kitchen. For a moment, he stopped and stared: Jack was cooking eggs, bacon, beans, and toast, and it smelled incredible. He'd even started coffee; contrary to the team's belief, Jack could make quite good coffee when he put his mind to it.

Hearing him come in, Jack glanced up and grinned at the surprised look on Ianto's face. "What? It's not like I've never cooked before."

"Not a full fry-up for breakfast," Ianto replied, his voice more raspy than usual. He hadn't even realized he'd had that much food in the flat. It looked so domestic that it was both terrifying and amazing. A part of him wanted to wake up like this every day.

Jack shrugged, clearly hiding his self-consciousness. He tried a piece of bacon, nodded, and took them from the pan. "I was hungry. I drove hours to get back, and then you kept me in bed all night without feeding me."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I fed you," he smirked.

Jack matched his smirk. "You certainly did. Wore me out, too. Come here."

Ianto walked over to the stove, where Jack grabbed him and pulled him into a greasy kiss before running a gentle hand along his neck. "You look better."

"Don't flatter me," Ianto replied. "I'm sure it looks awful."

Jack kissed his neck in reply; naturally, John Hart appeared then and began making gagging sounds.

"I'm starting to regret egging you on last night," he grumbled. "You two are positively nauseating."

Ianto stepped back and winked at Hart. "Thanks to you." Which wasn't quite true, but Hart looked even more disgusted at being blamed for his and Jack's current domestic state.

"Leave me out of it," he said. "How long are you lovebirds going to coo at each other? We need to work on getting me out of here, you know."

Ianto poured him and Jack coffee and sat down at the table. Maybe he was still waking up, or maybe it was finding Jack cooking in his kitchen, but for some reason John Hart's biting comments didn't bother Ianto as much. "I know. We'll head to the Hub soon and see if Tosh and Owen found anything last night."

"Are you talking to John?" Jack asked. Ianto nodded. "All right, tell me more about this pocket universe. What happened exactly?"

Ianto shared what John had told him as Jack plated their food. "And what does the pocket universe look like?"

"I told you yesterday—dark and dreary," Hart replied. "It's basically nothing but a big empty room with a table and a chair."

Jack set their plates down and joined him as Ianto related the answer. He was starting to look both curious and confused. "Where was he when this happened?"

"Aprilia III," Hart replied, but Ianto frowned and glanced up at him.

"That's not what you said yesterday. You said you were on Alpha Centauri."

Jack's head shot up and he followed Ianto's gaze. "Wait, Alpha Centauri? In the capital, Ararius?"

Hart didn't answer, but looked distinctly guilty, and Ianto turned back to Jack. "He's lying about something again, isn't he?"

Jack punched in a few things to his wrist strap, studied it, then closed it and went back to his breakfast. "Of course he is," Jack replied. "He's not in a pocket universe, he's in jail."

"What?" Ianto exclaimed. "How can he be following me around if he's supposed to be locked up?"

Jack swallowed some toast and took a sip of coffee. "That I don't know, and if he was only in jail, I'd let him rot there."

"That's exactly what Owen said," Ianto murmured, surprised at Jack's vehemence. Then again, Jack had virtually ignored Hart all night.

"But it's tied to you somehow, and we need to get rid of that connection."

"I don't understand—what do you mean he's in jail?"

Jack ate some more eggs before responding. "Alpha Centauri, in the future, becomes headquarters to the Galactic Federation, and home to one of the largest branches of the Galactic Bank."

Ianto understood immediately and turned to Hart. "You weren't looking for someone's lost pocket watch—you were robbing a bloody bank!"

"I was robbing the bank to get the pocket watch," Hart replied.

"You mean, you were paid to rob the bank and steal the watch," Ianto translated.

"Of course I was," Hart replied with a shrug. "Semantics."

Ianto turned to Jack. "So he stole the watch, opened it, and what? It sucked him into jail in another dimension?"

"Basically, yes. Pocket universes were sometimes used as temporary containment devices.

They were a defense mechanism that could be built into whatever needed protecting."

"Why would a watch in a secure bank have one of these things?" Ianto asked. "Additional security?"

"Or the watch was already wired with the pocket universe, and placing it in a vault at the bank was added protection. It must be worth a lot. The first PCUs—pocket containment units— were a bit rough, but they became quite sophisticated, and were eventually tied to psychic energy."

"Psychic energy?" Ianto asked. "How?"

"They were tuned to pick up negative intention." Jack grinned. "If someone intended to steal the object, they'd get sucked into the pocket universe for containment—or punishment."

"Jail." Ianto nodded, finally understanding. "Only in an alternate dimension."

"Exactly. The owner would be alerted, and they could then call the authorities and release the thief to their custody."

"Only I'm two thousand years out of time from where I got sucked into it," grumbled Hart. "Something's obviously gone wrong, which is why I need a little help getting out."

Ianto exchanged an amused look with Jack. "So let me get this straight," he said, making a point of eating his breakfast slowly and enjoying it. He took a long sip of coffee, enjoying the murderous look Hart gave him. "You robbed a bank, now you're in some sort of psychic dimensional jail, and you want me to help break you out?"

"Yes." Hart replied. "Because there is still the small matter of me being stuck with you."

Ianto grimaced and set down his fork. "Why is he here?" he asked Jack. "If this happened during a bank robbery in the future, how the hell did he end up here? With me?"

Jack chewed a piece of toast, clearly thinking about it. "You said it was a pocket watch?"

"That's what he said," Ianto shrugged. "Though who knows whether he's telling the truth. Why would he be stealing a pocket watch from a bank?"

"You already said it—because I was paid to steal the pocket watch from a bank," Hart replied. "It paid good, and I'd never hit that bank before."

"He said he'd never robbed that bank before," Ianto told Jack, shaking his head. "I can't believe you spent five years with him. It must have been utter chaos."

Jack grinned. "You have no idea. I imagine the Galactic Bank on Alpha Centauri was probably an intriguing challenge for him."

Hart was standing behind Ianto staring at Jack. "Or he knows it was an intriguing challenge. Ask him."

"Ask him what?"

"Ask him how he knew I was in jail," Hart said, motioning at Jack. "Go ahead."

Jack was eyeing Ianto warily, and Ianto could guess what Jack would answer. "I take it you've tried breaking into this bank before?" Jack nodded. "And did you get sucked into a dimensional jail trap?" This time Jack shook his head.

"Nope. I knew better. I scanned for it."

Hart muttered something unflattering under his breath. Ianto grinned, and Jack followed.

"I can't say for sure why he's here, following you, but my guess would be the psychic mechanism malfunctioned somehow."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "You mean…"

"These pocket universes had a psychic component wired into it to read thoughts and intentions. John was planning to steal it and thinking of you, so not only did he get pulled into the jail cell, but somehow he ended up here, connected to you."

"Fucking hell," muttered Hart.

"Brilliant," sighed Ianto. "So—artron energy? He suggested a blast of artron energy might get him out."

Jack looked thoughtful. "Could work. Artron energy is has both temporal and psychic connections and might short-circuit it enough to kick him out. You run it by Tosh?"

"Her magic oracle said yes," Ianto replied. "Only we don't have any way to generate artron energy, unless you happen to know something we don't."

"Not this time," Jack said. "Did you check the archives for something?"

"I was unconscious most of the afternoon," Ianto replied in his driest voice. When Jack frowned, Ianto continued with a reassuring smile. "But I'm okay."

"How are you feeling?" Jack asked.

"Hey, what about that artron energy?" John interrupted. Ianto ignored him.

"I feel better," Ianto told him. "Still sore, especially my throat. I should probably change the bandage on my arm, too."

Jack fondly shook his head. "I go away for a few days…" He laughed lightly, then gave Ianto a serious look. "You should have come with me, you know."

"Wouldn't have stopped Hart from showing up," Ianto pointed out, hoping Jack would drop it. Of course he didn't, not after the previous night.

"Why didn't you want to go to London?" he asked, eyes on his plate. "And don't give me the same excuses you gave me three days ago about the team being two men down, or not going back because of Canary Wharf. Was it really about those things, or was it about me?"

Ianto picked at his eggs before he looked up with a sheepish smile. "Would 'it's not you, it's me' sound too cliché right now?"

"Depends," Jack said. "What do you mean?"

"Oh god, not again," Hart moaned. Once again, Ianto ignored him.

"It seemed like a big step," Ianto replied with a shrug. "Going out of town for that long. Together."

"It does sounds cliché," Jack told him. "But I understand now, I guess. Only we've spent plenty of nights together, and it could have been a good time in London, just the two of us, not worrying about the Rift."

"I really haven't been back since Canary Wharf," Ianto said. "And I'm sure you had a perfectly good time without me." He didn't even think about the unsaid implication in his words until Jack was silent, and Ianto glanced up to find Jack watching him with a hurt look on his face.

"Is that what you think?" he asked. "That I was having fun" – he put the word in air quotes – "without you?"

"Oh, now you've gone and done it," Hart murmured.

"I don't know. We never said we wouldn't," Ianto replied, stabbing a piece of bacon harder than necessary. He hadn't meant to say anything, but he'd been thinking about it the entire time Jack had been gone and couldn't contain his slip. "And I imagine things are much different where you're from."

Jack set down his fork and leaned back. "Didn't we talk about this last night?"

"This, specifically?" Ianto asked. "Having fun on the side? No, never have."

Jack made a face. "You make it sound so tawdry—fun on the side. Say what you mean."

Ianto pushed his plate away, suddenly not hungry anymore. "Fine. I mean sleeping with other people. We never talked about it, never said we wouldn't."

"We've been sleeping together for months," Jack pointed out. "I thought exclusivity was usually implied by dating in the 21st century."

"But you're not from the 21st century, are you?" Ianto replied.

"You're a real train wreck, Eye Candy," John offered conversationally.

"I'm a product of my own time, yes," Jack said. "Which means I'm open to a lot more than most people in this century. It does not mean I live by 51st century standards all the time. I am perfectly capable of understanding 21st century dating etiquette given that I've _chosen_ to live in the 21st century."

Ianto was embarrassed, but he was not so stubborn that he couldn't admit when he was wrong. He had clearly underestimated Jack, but it was hard, considering Jack's constant flirting and never-ending sex stories. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have assumed."

"That's right, because you know what they say about that." Jack offered a small smile and went back to his breakfast. He glanced up briefly. "So have you?"

"No," Ianto replied immediately. "I'm a product of my own time," he added, then made a face. "Probably seem like a caveman to you."

Jack grinned. "Sometimes. But you're my caveman."

John Hart gagged and went into the living room.

"So…" Ianto pulled his plate back and concentrated on his eggs, but couldn't bring himself to say it.

"No," Jack said softly. "Me neither."

Ianto released a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. He nodded and took a few more bites of breakfast, but found he was full; Jack had cooked a lot of food, all of it wonderful. He was once again struck by how much he wanted to be able to do this with Jack more often.

"It was good," he said. "Really good. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jack replied.

"Be nice to do it again sometime," he added as casually as he could. He stood and took his plate to the sink, then came back for Jack's.

"Yes, it would," Jack replied. "Or maybe we could order room service and eat in bed."

Ianto set the plates down and turned around to find Jack right behind him. "Wait, what?"

"You know, room service—like at a hotel. Or a bed and breakfast, maybe?" Jack looked hopeful, but like he was trying to hide it.

"Are you asking me to—"

"Go away with me? Interested?" He paused. "Or ready?"

He was almost as nervous as that night in the office block. Ianto tried to think of a clever reply, but couldn't and simply nodded.

"Yeah, I think I am." He heard slow clapping from the other room and ignored it. "Any ideas?"

"The Gower," Jack replied immediately. He'd obviously given it some thought. "I saw some places online that looked perfect. And it'll be gorgeous around the holidays, so let's get this case settled and we can book something without your visitor around."

"Amen!" shouted Hart from the living room.

"Shower first?" Ianto suggested. Jack nodded, whispered something in his ear, and took off for the bathroom. Ianto followed, pausing in the living room. Before he even opened his mouth, Hart held up his hands and grumbled.

"No peeking, I know," he said. "Just don't take long."

Ianto rolled his eyes and hurried to join Jack.

* * *

They entered the Hub that morning to a chorus of welcomes; Ianto was late again, but this time he didn't feel badly at all. In fact, he was trying very hard not to appear smug, but apparently doing a rubbish job because Hart called him out as he made coffee.

"You look like you got thoroughly shagged half a dozen times," he complained. "Can you wipe the smirk off your face already?"

"Not really," said Ianto. "And it wasn't quite that many." Almost, but even he and Jack had their limits.

"I know, I heard," Hart grumbled. "Missed half the movie because of you two."

Ianto shrugged. "You didn't have to listen."

"You didn't have to—"

"Good morning, Ianto," said Tosh, thankfully interrupting Hart. "How are you?"

"Good morning, Tosh," he replied. He finished the first cup of coffee and handed to her. "I'm doing well, and for asking, you get the first cup."

She grinned. "Thanks. You must have had a good night."

"I feel much better," he told her honestly. She shook her head.

"That's not what I meant. Jack came back early."

"He did," Ianto replied, turning back to make another cup. "Apparently he finished up and had no reason to stay over."

"I heard he was worried about you," she said, sipping at her coffee and watching him with sparkling eyes.

"Well." Ianto tried not to splutter. "I did get asphyxiated yesterday."

"Hmm." She was studying him carefully. "Did he spend the night with you?"

Ianto could almost hear John Hart rolling his eyes, but ignored the man. "Yes," he told her. "He did." Which shouldn't have been a surprise, as they'd been spending the night together for weeks, though maybe the team hadn't realized it. Hart had said the others talked about him and Jack, but they weren't sure how serious it was. Well, Ianto knew what Owen thought, although sometimes the doctor surprised him. Tosh and Gwen knew they were dating, but apparently this was news because Tosh practically squealed.

"Tosh," he said, preparing Jack's mug. "It's not the first time."

Her eyes went wide. "You're kidding!" She tapped him lightly on the arm. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Like what?" he asked. "And besides…it was…I don't know. But it's good now."

"And it wasn't before?" she asked, sounding skeptical.

"Before…" He fixed Gwen's cup next. "Before it was what it was, and now…it is what it is."

"And what's that?" she asked.

"Tosh…"

"Ianto," she parroted back.

He gestured over his shoulder. "I've still got company."

She glanced around him. "Right. About that…"

"Did you find anything?" he asked. She sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was here quite late, and Owen and I searched everything we could. I know what to do, but I still don't have the means to do it."

"Do what?" asked Jack, coming up behind Ianto. Ianto handed him the blue and white cup, smiling when Jack's fingers lingered over his. He was pretty sure Tosh was watching them, and that John Hart was making faces, but it didn't matter. Jack's smile was the genuine one he'd seen last night when Jack had come to his flat, and several times since.

"Create artron energy," Tosh answered. "I can detect it and measure it, and I'm sure I could manipulate it—but I can't generate it. I can't even collect it. If I could, then I think we could disrupt the pocket universe and send John Hart back home."

Jack nodded. "Right. Artron energy. Fun stuff."

"Hang on," said Hart, raising his hand like he was in school. "I think I just had an idea."

"Finally," Ianto muttered. "Go on, then."

"Ask Jack if he's got any kontron crystals," Hart said. He motioned his hand impatiently. "Go on, I think I'm onto something."

"Hart wants to know if you have any kontron crystals," Ianto dutifully relayed. Jack shrugged helplessly.

"You'd know better than me what we've got downstairs. Why?"

Ianto gave John a pointed look. He was grinning.

"Your techie said she can't generate artron energy—but maybe she _can_ collect it. Kontron crystals are from the time vortex—same place you find artron energy. If you've got one and set it by your Rift manipulator over there, it might soak up enough of it to get me out of here."

"How?" asked Ianto.

"You finally get to blow me up!" Hart grinned. "Charge the crystal and then destroy it, and the resulting energy release could be enough to solve this once and for all."

Ianto gave him a doubtful look before relaying everything to Tosh and Jack. Jack looked equally skeptical, but Tosh nodded in excitement. "It makes sense," she said. "I think it could work. Do we have any of these crystals?"

Jack shook his head again. "Maybe?"

Ianto grabbed his hand and started toward the stairs downstairs, leaving Tosh to work out more details upstairs. "Archives. With me."

"Not again," Hart groaned.

"You too," Ianto replied. "We've got rocks and minerals from all over space and time, so hopefully one of them is what we're looking for. You'd both recognize it?"

Jack shook his head again, while Hart rolled his eyes. "How quickly we forget. I'll know. Tell Jack we picked one up on Karfel back in '94." He paused. "Never mind. He probably won't remember."

Ianto stopped and gave him a sharp look. Hart held up his hands. "And sorry, but I can't talk about it. Strictly off limits."

Ianto shook his head in disgust. "You're despicable. You know what happened and you won't even—"

"I can't," Hart hissed, glancing worriedly at Jack. "Call it a futuristic geas—the words won't come out, and if I try, I'll eventually give myself a brain aneurism."

"Are you serious?" Ianto asked.

"Dead serious," he replied. "I told you, they really worked him over, and then banned the rest of us from talking about it. And after all he did for them…" He trailed off. "So don't ask, because I literally can't talk about it."

"I hate this," Jack grumbled. "I feel like you're always talking about me."

Ianto pulled him back along the corridor. "Not at all. Apparently John stole one of these crystals before."

"Hey, that's not what I said!" Hart exclaimed. "We were actually trying to stop a massive disruption to the space-time continuum."

Ianto ignored him and led them to the archives, through his small office, and straight to the shelving section, where dozens of rocks and minerals were stored in containment boxes. Some were labeled, some were not. He decided they'd go through all of them, because it was entirely possible that one of these crystals could be mislabeled as something else; no one on earth would have recognized a kontron crystal, after all.

They searched for well over an hour before they finally found one. An uneven blue crystal about the size of a child's fist, it was several different shades of blue and reflected light in a way that almost made it difficult to look at; it was both beautiful and repulsive. Ianto felt uncomfortable touching it, as if it might electrocute him, or zap him into another dimension. He mentioned it to Hart.

"It feels odd," he said. "Not alive, but full of energy."

"Maybe it's already charged then," Hart replied. "Huh. This might actually work."

"You don't know?"

"I told you it was a theory. I know they're from the time vortex, and it made sense to think they might absorb artron energy since it's from the same place."

"Why didn't you think of this yesterday?" Ianto asked.

"Because spending the day together was much more fun!" Hart winked. "And I didn't think of it until your techie mentioned something about collecting the energy. I've seen other crystals used to collect energy, so I figured maybe these could do the same for us."

"I hope so," Ianto told him.

Jack was watching him curiously, with a hint of doubt in his eyes. "What?" asked Ianto.

"Sometimes you almost sound like you're getting along with him," Jack pointed out. "Should I be worried?"

Hart laughed. "He's jealous! Oh, Eye Candy, you've really done a number on him, haven't you?"

"Shut up," Ianto muttered to the side, then looked up at Jack. "Of course not. And we're not getting along, we're figuring out how to end this."

"You mean you won't miss me?" Hart asked. Ianto rolled his eyes.

"Not one bit. I hope the Galactic police are waiting to throw you into a real jail when you get out of this one." He paused. "Maybe I can send a message to the future and let them know all your other crimes. Evidence for trial and all that."

Jack laughed. "There we go. That's more like it."

"He's an absolute prick," Ianto told him. "I can't wait to blow him up."

"I bet you say that to all your interdimensional stalkers," Hart said.

"Only you," Ianto replied. "And since we've got the crystal, let's get to it."

He started upstairs, determined to end it once and for all.

* * *

Author's Note:  
Lots of me making stuff up here, but I always try to base it on something real in the Whoniverse. Which usually involves spending too much time on the Tardis Wiki reading about everything from kontron crystals to artron energy to planets in the Doctor Who universe, and then poking Avaantares to see if my crazy ideas make sense. So many thanks to her for listening! Any mistakes are my own. And the bit about John Hart not being able to tell Jack about his missing years is all mine. It may or may not line up with canon as per Titan Comics (Secret Agent Man) or Big Finish (Month 25), but I liked the idea enough to keep it. Thanks for reading!

 **Author's Note #2:**

To the readers who are fed up and threatening to unfollow - go right ahead. I have had a major and sudden shocking death in my family and do not need to feel pressured by entitled jerks who can't even have the decency to ask privately and politely about updates. I will post when I am emotionally able to continue the last two chapters. For the rest of my readers, I appreciate your patience and understanding.


	6. Chapter 6

VI.

Tosh scanned the crystal and declared that while it had been picking up some residual artron energy in the archives, it still needed much more to accomplish their goal of hoping to disrupt the pocket universe holding John Hart. They put it beside the Rift monitor, and she set up her scanners and monitors to alert them if and when it charged enough. She estimated it would take most of the morning, which left Ianto with his visitor for several more hours.

It was hard with John always there, watching and listening, especially now that Jack was back. Ianto wanted to talk to Jack in private, though he wasn't sure what else to say after their emotionally charged night—perhaps learn about Jack's trip to London, plan their trip to the Gower, find out more about the incorrigible Time Agent Jack once partnered with and try to understand how much Jack had truly changed while John had not.

Instead he found himself in the tourist office, trading increasingly acerbic barbs with Hart until someone came in looking for a map of England. Hart stood behind them, taking the piss and pulling faces, to the point where Ianto finally had to usher the poor couple out before he lost it. After he closed and locked the door behind them, he turned to Hart and though he tried to berate the other man, instead he burst out laughing.

Jack called on his comm as Ianto was catching his breath. "You sound like you're having fun up there," he said.

"Sorry, sir," Ianto apologized with a grin. "But we had some exceptionally inept tourists come in looking for hiking directions to Stonehenge."

"We?" Jack asked. "You're starting to get used to him, aren't you?"

"Not at all," Ianto replied immediately. "But in this case, his commentary was particularly astute."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Don't let him get to you," Jack said. "He can manipulate his way past anyone's defenses, even yours."

"Understood," Ianto replied, glancing at Hart, who was back to looking around the office as if he weren't trying to listen in on the conversation. "I've closed the office and was planning on coming down to make some coffee. Need a refill?"

Ianto could almost hear the grin in Jack's voice. "That's not all I could use!"

They had a brief staff meeting, in which Tosh updated them on the progress of the crystal, Owen reported on his autopsy of the Rasalka, and Gwen informed them that things had been so quiet otherwise that she had managed to lock down the flower arrangements for the wedding. Jack told them only brief details about his trip to London, citing confidentiality under the current circumstances. Hart rolled his eyes as they left the conference room.

"As if I care what's going on with your pathetic little organization here. I've got bigger things to worry about."

"Like what you're going to do when you get out of jail?" Ianto suggested as they headed upstairs.

"Exactly," Hart replied. "I've got to get the watch to my contact and collect my money."

"That's assuming the Galactic police aren't waiting to pick you up," Ianto pointed out.

"What's he saying?" asked Jack, who seemed to veer between curious, jealous, and completely apathetic when it came to Ianto's conversations with John.

"He's worried about delivering the watch to the person who hired him to steal it."

"Steal it back," Hart corrected.

"He would worry about that," Jack replied, shaking his head. "Rather than being stuck in jail."

"Once a businessman, always a businessman," Hart replied.

"Who hired him?" Jack asked. "And what year is he actually in?"

"42nd century," Hart replied. "Never seen the guy—I met with an associate. I guess he's a bit of a recluse, one of those wealthy bastards who collects all sorts of alien trinkets for his private collection."

"You mean he steals them for his private collection?" asked Ianto dryly.

"Apparently, it had been stolen from a friend years ago, they finally tracked it down, and they wanted it back," Hart told them. "I don't check their stories, I only do what I'm paid to do—which was to break into vault 654 and grab the watch for a big paycheck."

Jack looked interested after Ianto related John's reply. "Does this collector have a name?" he asked.

"Goes by James Harper," Hart replied. "He's got a decent reputation, from what I've heard. Remarkably clean, so his story probably checks out, and said to be one of the best. It's rumored he has an entire asteroid for his stuff." He paused. "And his associate was hot."

Jack stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide. Ianto turned and frowned with concern. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Do you know him?"

Jack shook his head, still looking slightly surprised. "I didn't spend much time in that century, no. I've heard the name, though." He laughed, sounding nervous. "I'll tell you later, over dinner?"

Ianto understood immediately that Jack did not want to talk in front of John. He wondered if there were more to the story of the watch that Hart had been paid to steal. Either Hart wasn't telling the whole truth, or Jack suspected something else was going on.

"I'll hold you to that," Ianto replied.

"It's probably nothing," Jack said, his casual shrug clearly forced. "Just one of those weird coincidences that happen around here."

"Hopefully," Ianto echoed. "Since it seems to have you rattled. Want to head out and pick up an early lunch?"

Jack's face cleared and he smiled. "I would," he said. "Beats sitting around here waiting for a magic rock to charge. Let's go."

As it was still early, they took their time walking along the Quay before picking up soup and sandwiches for everyone and generally ignoring John Hart. By the time they returned to the Hub, Tosh said the crystal was ready, and all thoughts of lunch were set aside as Ianto tucked the food in the refrigerator and followed everyone downstairs.

They'd decided to use the firing range in case something went wrong. Tosh set the crystal on a stool set in front of one of the Weevil cutouts before stepping away with her scanner.

"it should be ready to go," she said. "I can measure how much energy it's holding, and by my calculations it should be enough to disrupt the field of the pocket universe." She paused. "At least, from what I can measure of the pocket universe."

"You're sure it won't blow up the Hub?" Ianto asked, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the stool.

"My understanding of artron energy is limited, but from what I've gathered, it shouldn't cause a massive explosion," Tosh replied. "And John said it wouldn't harm him either."

"Too bad for that," Owen grumbled from nearby.

Jack nodded in agreement. "No, it's generally safe, even a lot of it. It's not a particularly volatile energy, so it should do what you say. But we should still stand back."

Tosh, Gwen, and Owen all moved as far away as they could, Tosh still staring at her handheld scanner. Ianto went to the weapons table, Jack standing beside him. He felt strangely detached as John Hart moved to stand behind the stool.

"Guess this is goodbye, then, Eye Candy."

Ianto blew out a breath. "And here I thought you might actually learn my name by the time you left."

"Sorry, I call it like I see it." Hart grinned. "I'd give you a big sloppy kiss to make up for it if I could, but I can't even shake your hand."

"Not a problem. I'm just glad you're going back where you belong."

"And I'll miss you even more," Hart sing-songed back. Ianto rolled his eyes. Hart stepped through the stool and came closer, lowering his voice even though Ianto was still the only one who could hear him.

"Look, I know we're not ending this little adventure as best friends or anything, but I appreciate the help."

"You're welcome," Ianto told him. "And I suppose I should thank you for yours. With everything."

"You mean with your boyfriend?" Hart asked, smirking at Jack.

"He's not—" Ianto stopped and shook his head. "Whatever. I meant with the Rasalka, and the crystal. Those things."

"Right," he replied, stringing it out. "Well, you're welcome. Don't mess things up now that I've straightened them out."

"And maybe you should think about getting out of the criminal business, settle down into a respectable life," Ianto returned. Hart laughed.

"Sounds boring," he replied. "So if you ever get bored, give me a call."

"Right," Ianto parroted back. "Believe it or not, things don't tend to get boring around here."

"Maybe I meant in bed."

Ianto pretended to think about it. "Yeah, not there either."

"Too much information, Eye Candy," Hart groaned. "I heard enough as it was."

"Is he ready yet?" Owen finally interrupted. "Because these one-sided conversations are annoying."

"I think it's sort of fascinating," Tosh murmured, but Jack and Gwen clearly agreed with Owen.

"Tell John to get ready," Jack said, taking out his Webley. "And that we all say goodbye and thank you and take care and all that."

Hart snorted as he went back to stand behind the stool, then eyed Jack's weapon curiously. "I thought you were doing the honors," he said to Ianto.

"You couldn't stop me," Ianto replied, holding out his hand. Jack grinned and handed him the gun.

"Have fun," he said.

"No goodbye kiss this time," John murmured with fake sadness.

"Not this time," Ianto replied. He pointed the gun at the crystal. "Ready?"

"Not really, but there's nothing for it. Do it."

Ianto paused and met John's eyes. "I hope it works."

"Me too," Hart replied fervently.

"No, I mean, I actually hope it doesn't kill you or anything." Ianto couldn't believe he was saying it, because thirty-six hours ago he would have wished it more than anything. As much as he disliked Hart and wanted to see him back in his own time, Ianto didn't want him to die a painful death. Not at that moment, anyway.

"Thanks, Jones," Hart replied. "That's probably the nicest thing you've said all day."

"And that's all you're going to get," Ianto replied. "So good luck."

"You too," John said. He glanced at Jack. "Although something tells me you've got this one."

Ianto simply nodded, took a breath, and fired. One bullet hit the crystal dead on, shattering it into hundreds of pieces. There was a flash of blue light that surrounded John, hissing and crackling, and Gwen gasped from where she was standing behind them.

"I can see him," she said, pointing directly at John Hart.

"Something's definitely happening," Tosh, glancing up from her scanner.

Jack was staring at Hart as if he too could see him. He took a step closer to Ianto, hovering protectively.

"Take care of him, Jack," Hart said, and Ianto could tell that the others heard him as well. "He deserves it."

"I know," Jack replied quietly, putting an arm around Ianto's waist. It was all he could do to not wiggle out of Jack's grasp in front of the others.

"See you in the future, I imagine," Hart said, starting to fade "And Jack? Gray's all right. I'll keep an eye on him until you make it back."

Jack smiled sadly. "Thank you," he whispered.

"See you around, Eye Candy," Hart added. "Maybe you should both visit sometime. My bed's always open."

Owen snorted while Gwen made a face. Ianto shook his head but didn't reply as Hart faded away. After staring at the empty space for a moment, hoping it was finally over but not daring to believe it, he turned to Tosh.

"Gone?" he asked.

"Seem to be," she said, sounding distracted. "I'm not picking up any readings—I think it worked!" She grinned up at them. "We did it!"

"Good work, Tosh," Jack said, his voice quiet and subdued, much like the last time John Hart had left with a last-minute mention of the mysterious Gray. "Let's start—"

He was interrupted by the sound of the alarms going off.

"Rift alert!" Tosh said, running upstairs to her computer. They followed right behind her, grabbing coats and weapons as she checked the readings.

"It's right here," she said, sounding surprised. "In the tourist office!"

Ianto followed Jack toward the lift, Gwen and Owen right behind him while Tosh stayed behind, still typing away at her computer. They rode up in anxous silence and stepped into the office with weapons drawn, but Ianto didn't see anything.

"Tosh?" he asked, tapping his comm piece. "Are you getting any readings? Because there's nothing here." Then he noticed a package on the counter that had not been there before, and somehow, he immediately knew what had happened.

"Not anymore," she said. "I'm pulling up the CCTV footage now." There was a brief pause, and Ianto walked over to the counter, waiting for her to confirm. "John Hart was here again. He must have teleported in and out and he—"

"And he left a package," Ianto finished. "We see it. Thanks, Tosh. Still no funny readings, though?"

"Nothing," she said, sounding frustrated. "That doesn't mean it's safe, though."

The package was addressed to him, so Ianto picked it up; Jack, Gwen, and Owen all shouted at him to put it down.

"It's fine," he said. "I honestly don't think it's anything dangerous."

"He's a compulsive liar," Gwen said.

"Total whack job," added Owen.

"You spent two days with him," Jack said. "You should know how dangerous he is."

Ianto nodded as he took off the brown paper. "I do. Dangerous and annoying. But for some reason, I don't think this is…" He trailed off as he opened the box. Expecting to find a lewd note or vulgar sex toy, Ianto was surprised to find a pocket watch instead. "Oh."

"Oh, what?" demanded Jack. "What is it?"

Ianto took it out of the tissue it had been hastily wrapped in. "It's beautiful," he said quietly. It was a golden watch, covered in intricately etched loops and whorls. It was warm and felt familiar, or comfortable—like he was meant to have it. Which didn't make any sense given Hart had brought it from the future. Still, it filled him with a measure of peace and confidence he hadn't felt before: they'd done the right thing. It was meant to be. He held it up for the others to see, and Jack's eyes went wide as he reached out for it.

"Is this what I think it is?" he whispered.

"I'm guessing it's the one he was hired to steal," Ianto replied. "Though why he left it here when he was supposed to get paid to deliver it is beyond me."

"Do you recognize the markings, though?" Jack asked, his fingers tracing the fanciful designs. "From Torchwood One?"

"No," Ianto replied, confused by Jack's question. "Although my grandfather had something similar."

Jack shook his head. "Then it's probably nothing."

"But you think it's something," Gwen said. "Something important."

"I'm really not sure, I'd have to do some research. Could be Celtic designs." He paused and shrugged. "Or it could be alien."

"Cool," said Owen. "Teaboy has an alien watch. Now he can be even weirder."

"Says the walking, talking dead man."

Owen waved his hand at Ianto, dismissing the retort. "I'm not the one with the watch fetish."

"I have one stopwatch, Owen," Ianto replied evenly. "That does not make it a fetish."

"Do you do kinky stuff with it?" the doctor asked over his shoulder as they all filed back downstairs.

"Of course," Ianto replied, refusing to look at Jack, who he could practically hear grinning from ear to ear now despite his earlier surprise and confusion.

"God, I didn't need to know that," Owen muttered.

"You asked," Tosh pointed out, and Gwen stifled a giggle.

"Now I have two watches to play with," Ianto finished. "I wonder what could I do with a pocket watch?"

"I imagine there's quite a list," Jack murmured, practically bursting; even Tosh was grinning.

"You need a chain for it," she said. "Then you could wear it with your suits—very old-fashioned, like Jack!"

"Are you saying I'm old?" Jack asked, and Ianto couldn't help but laugh. He wasn't sure the others had any idea how old Jack actually was.

"Old-fashioned," Gwen replied. "It's the coat."

"And the braces," added Tosh.

"And the cufflinks," Ianto threw in. "Not to mention the hair and the music and the—"

"What's wrong with my hair?" Jack asked, his voice going up as he ran a hand through it; Ianto could tell he was playing at it, though, and he was glad for the banter. Something about the watch made him nervous. Why had John brought it back and given it to him? Had his story been a lie from the beginning? Why was Jack so curious about it? Was it really alien?

He was caught up in his thoughts as they entered the Hub, missing the rest of the conversation. Walking thoughtfully over to the kitchen, he began pulling out their lunches from the refrigerator. Jack came over and leaned against the counter next to him.

"You all right?" he asked quietly, so that the others didn't hear them. "You seem deep in thought."

"I am," Ianto replied. "Just trying to figure it all out."

Jack nodded. "So you don't miss him," he said, his voice both teasing and sincere.

"Of course not," Ianto replied, frowning. "I'm trying to figure out why he'd come back and leave me a watch he was paid to steal. Something feels off."

Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "Something is always off with John," he replied. "But I wonder the same thing. I think there's more to that watch than meets the eye."

Ianto glanced over his shoulder; the others were sitting by the sofa and table, waiting for them to bring out the soup and sandwiches. He leaned closer to Jack. "Where did you hear the name James Harper?" he asked, unable to wait until dinner because he had a feeling it was all connected.

Jack toed the ground before answering. "I used it a few times myself," he replied. "Last time was back in 1941."

Ianto shook his head in confusion. "You don't actually think you're—"

"A wealthy recluse?" Jack replied. "I could see that. I'm already rich, and who knows what I'll be like by the 42nc century. I might very well want nothing to do with the world. Maybe living on an asteroid is exactly what I do in the future. Collecting alien trinkets, sort of like we do here."

"No," Ianto replied, shaking his head. "I don't believe it. You're not going to isolate yourself, lock yourself away. It's a coincidence, nothing more."

"Maybe," Jack replied. "But maybe it's me, and I sent John back to give you the watch."

"But he said he had to steal it first," Ianto pointed out. "So why not steal it yourself and bring it back?"

Jack was quiet for a moment. "I have no idea. Maybe because in the 42nd century I remembered John doing it so I had to make sure John did it."

"Another casual loop?" Ianto replied with a grimace. "Don't we go through enough of those around here?"

"I think they're fun," Jack replied, clapping him on the back. Then he turned serious. "But I'd hold on to that watch. There's a reason you have it—It could be important, valuable. You said your grandfather had something similar?"

Ianto nodded as he set out the sandwiches on a tray. "Very similar. He gave it to me when I went to university, said the same thing you did—that it was important, valuable. I lost it in the Battle of Canary Wharf."

"Did you ever look for it?" Jack asked. "Not there, I know you haven't been back, but in the archived retrievals? Maybe it went to Torchwood House?"

"Or perhaps it ended up in the future and you sent it back to me," Ianto replied. "Though it doesn't look thousands of years old, only a bit beat up."

"Maybe," Jack said thoughtfully. "Well, we can always study it a bit if you want to know more."

"Maybe," Ianto repeated. "Although right now I'm sort of partial to the idea of it simply being a reminder of my grandfather and not some grand alien trinket I have to tuck away in the Archives here."

"No, you should keep it," Jack said. "Although since it's from John, can we still have Tosh run a few quick tests? For booby traps, that sort of thing?"

"Afraid he's set it to whisk me away?" Ianto teased.

"I wouldn't put it past him!" Jack laughed. "Right to his bed, too."

Ianto offered an exaggerated shudder. "Then we can definitely test it to be sure. I'm glad to be rid of him."

"Me too," said Jack. "Though I have a feeling it's not the last we've seen of him."

"Probably not," said Ianto. "But I think we all held our own much better this time. No one got hit, shot, poisoned, or killed." He handed Jack the sandwiches and picked up the soups and spoons. Jack held him back.

"You did good," Jack told him quietly. "You handled him well, and I know it was hard. Are we still on for dinner? Orsino's, perhaps? I'll fill you in more on London, you can tell me more about yesterday, and we can look at plans for our own weekend."

"I'll make a reservation as soon as we're done eating," Ianto replied with a smile. "And you'll stay over?"

"I would love to stay over knowing there's no one in the next room watching _Star Wars_ while I shag you into the mattress."

"Too much information!" Owen shouted from the sofa. "Where's the food?"

"You can't eat it anyway," Ianto called with a roll of his eyes.

"But it smells good," Owen said.

"You can't breathe either," Tosh told him.

"I'm remembering how it tastes and smells. Indulge me. And stop talking about Hart. He's gone and good riddance."

"You didn't have to live with him for almost two days," Ianto pointed out as they walked over.

"Thank god for that," Owen replied. Gwen patted Ianto on the knee as he sat down with the sandwiches.

"You really kept it together," she said. "I'm impressed."

"Me too," said Tosh. "From your side of the conversations, it sounded like he was constantly antagonizing you."

"He more than held his own," Jack replied, sounding proud. "And I have a feeling he sent John back with some things to think about."

"Like giving up crime?" Ianto asked with a snort of food. He wiped his mouth and apologized. "I doubt it."

"You're a persuasive man," Jack pointed out. "Remember that time you talked me into—"

"Stop!" said Owen, while the girls burst out laughing. "Hart. Gone. Conversation. Over."

"Do you want to see my flower arrangements instead?" asked Gwen coyly, knowing full well she'd get another moan from Owen. Which she did. They laughed again and talk turned to other things—to the wedding, to the watch, to the Rasalka, even to Jack's plan to go away with Ianto for a weekend, which left the others slightly open-mouthed in surprise and Ianto utterly embarrassed even though he was filled with a warm feeling.

Jack really did come back for him, really did stay for him, and really wanted to be with him and go away with him. And strangely enough, it had taken the most frustrating man Ianto had ever met to point it out and force them to recognize and admit it. It almost made Ianto wonder if John Hart wasn't so bad after all, then he shook his head. Of course the man was nothing but trouble. Yet Hart was gone, and Jack was there, and they had each other.

Along with a new watch to play with.

* * *

Author's Note:

I apologize for the long wait, but real life has been difficult, to say the least. Most of this was done and just needed the ending. Today it was good therapy to finish. And most of the epilogue is done as well, though it will take longer to tweak that one. I should end the story right here, but I'm going to go for the rest of it seeing as I've left most of the hints. Hopefully you'll like it and not throw things at it. But it makes me grin and it is my story, so look for it in a week or two. If the characters cooperate, then perhaps sooner. It's been a fun ride with John and Ianto, and I hope you've enjoyed the journey as well. Thank you so much for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Epilogue

The blue light faded, and John blinked his eyes several times to try and study his surroundings closer this time. The first time it had been dark, and he'd been sent back to Cardiff almost immediately to leave the pocket watch with Torchwood. Now the lights were on, and he could see that he was definitely not trapped in the pocket universe anymore, but in a posh living area of some sort: lush carpets, striking furniture, rich looking paintings on the walls. He smelled food—breakfast, from the scent of it—and the delicious aroma of coffee. As he tried to make sense of where he was, his contact rose from the comfortable sofa where she had been waiting for him.

"Hello again, Mr. Hart," she said. "Welcome back."

He glanced around again. "And where would that be exactly? A different kind of jail?"

"Of course not," she said. She was gorgeous, with a head of unruly curls, full lips, and sparkling eyes he knew were trouble. He'd thought so the moment he'd met her, when she'd asked him to find—or rather, to steal—the pocket watch for James Harper. She'd offered him a hell of a lot of money for a good challenge, though, so he'd taken the job; now he almost wished he hadn't.

"Then where are we?"

"We're still on Alpha Centauri, of course. Though if you'd prefer the pocket universe, I'm sure I could find a way to send you back."

"Only if you join me," Hart replied with a wink, trying to regain some equilibrium. She made a face that looked both disgusted and amused.

"I'm afraid my husband—among several others—would probably miss me. So no thank you. Were you able to leave Mr. Jones the package?"

"Yes, I left it on his desk," Hart replied. "Though I don't know why you wanted me to steal it just to give it to someone else. I thought Harper wanted it for his collection."

The woman smiled benignly. "Right now, Mr. Jones has a greater need for it. Or he will soon."

Hart crossed his arms over his chest. "Did you know this would happen?" he asked. "That the watch had a pocket universe lock?"

"Of course I did, Mr. Hart," she laughed. "I put it there."

"And did you know it would malfunction and send me back to Torchwood?"

She touched the side of her nose slyly.

"Did Harper know?" he demanded. "Because I feel like I've been set up here. I'm just not sure who set me up and what the endgame is."

"Perhaps you don't need to know," she said. "Think of it as wibbly-wobbly, timey-whimey."

Hart groaned. "Oh god, don't tell me I fixed the past, or saved the future, or some rubbish like that. I'm not with the Time Agency anymore, sweetheart. And I don't appreciate being manipulated."

"I'm not manipulating you," she replied calmly. "You were the one who went back in time and met Mr. Jones, so you had to be the one to go back in time to meet Mr. Jones."

"Casual loop?" he asked.

"A small one," she replied. "The bigger one would probably blow your mind."

"You can blow my mind anytime," Hart said. When she actually rolled her eyes at him, he gave up. "So who's behind it then, you or Harper?"

She cocked her head. "And what makes you think it was one of us? Time loops are usually the natural product of an unstable quantum system simply trying to right itself."

"Because my instincts are good, and they're telling me I've been set up," Hart answered, then switched tracks to try and throw her off. "You said Harper would meet me personally to pay me. Where is he? Where's my money?"

The woman smiled patiently. "You'll get it. Did you still want to meet with him, or would you prefer me to transfer it for you?"

"I want answers," Hart said, then changed direction again. "Where's my ship?"

"Right where you left it," she said. "Like I said, we're still in Ararius. Mr. Harper took a room near the bank. When you were sucked into the pocket universe, we were alerted and able to claim the watch before the original owner of the vault was notified of the breach."

"How?" Hart demanded.

She shrugged. "Simple computer hack, of course."

"No, how did you know when I was sucked into the pocket universe?"

She motioned at his wrist strap. "Simple tracking device."

Hart stared at her. "You did set me up."

"Of course we did," said a voice behind him—a voice he recognized too well because he'd just left it. He turned and offered a forced grin even as his heart raced with both excitement and fear. What the hell was going on?

"James Harper, I presume?" he asked, then raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I like the new look."

The other man smiled, the shark-like grin John had once both loved and feared. He glanced down at the brown leather duster he was wearing over a local tunic and trousers."Times change," he replied.

"And yet you really haven't," Hart murmured, moving closer and eyeing Harper up and down. There might have been a new wrinkle or two, a hint of grey in his hair, but otherwise… "You barely look a day over a fifty." He whistled. "You should sell whatever it is keeping you fit. You'd make a fortune."

"Try a couple of thousand," Harper replied dryly. "And I'm already rich. When you invest over several millennia, you don't need quick scams."

"But apparently, you still need someone to do your dirty work?" John asked. "Because that's what this is all about, isn't it? You setting me up to take the fall for the watch."

Harper glanced around. "I'm sorry, what fall? You're not in prison, and we're not planning on handing you over to the Galactic police if that's what you're worried about."

"Then why not steal the watch yourself?" Hart demanded. "You said you'd hit the bank before and didn't get caught. Why send me in? Why let me get sucked into the pocket universe and end up with bloody Torchwood?"

"Because we knew you were the one—"

"Who got sucked into the pocket universe," Hart finished. "Right. This is the part where I fucking hate time travel."

Harper's face softened. "And yet in the end, time travel saves us all," he murmured.

"Whatever," Hart replied. "You've clearly gone a bit mad with age, so rather than beat around the bush, can I get my money so I can leave? Whatever's going on here, I don't want any part of it."

"Ah, but you're already a part of it," Harper pointed out. "In many ways, most of which you haven't even experienced yet."

"Then I apologize for everything I haven't done but will do in the future," Hart snapped. "Payment, please?"

Harper folded his arms over his chest. "You're awfully keen to get out of here, away from me. Every other time we've met you've thrown down all kinds of propositions and inappropriate invitations."

"Honestly?" said John, a rare term for him. "This is creeping me out. I left you on 21st century Earth, and run into you on 42nd century Alpha Centauri. The logical explanation would be that you're jumping in time with your wrist strap, but I know you're not. You're linear. How am I supposed to wrap my mind around that? No one should live that long."

Harper's face grew sad, and John looked away, almost unable to bear it. "No one should, and yet I have."

"Then why drag me into your immortal scheming?"

Harper nodded, then moved toward the sofa, where he leaned down and whispered something to the woman still sitting there and watching them with a pensive smile. She nodded and stood, cocking her head at John before leaving.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Hart," she said. "I'm sure we'll meet again sometime."

"I hope not," John muttered. In some ways, she scared him even more than Harper did, no matter how attractive she was.

John watched her leave the room, then turned to find Harper sitting in her place on the sofa. He motioned at a nearby chair. John reluctantly sat down. He hated feeling rattled; normally he adapted to whatever situation he found himself in. This was exceptional, though. He'd been expecting to leave the pocket universe and have to escape custody; he'd even come up with a daring plan to get the watch to Harper and run with his money. He hadn't expected to find his contact waiting for him, or to be sent right back to Cardiff with the watch. And he certainly hadn't expected to find out that Jack Harkness was the man behind it all.

"So what do you think I'm dragging you into?" Jack asked, leaning back on the sofa and looking far too relaxed. "What do you think is going on here?"

"Closed time loop, for one," Hart replied, trying to match the man's casual demeanor. "You remembered me coming to Torchwood when I tried to steal the watch, therefore you hired me to steal the watch so that I'd be sure to get sent back to Torchwood."

Jack nodded. "That's part of it, yes. But it's not about my past so much as—"

"Eye Candy," Hart replied. "He's the one I got stuck with when the psychic component malfunctioned. You have something to do with that, too?"

Jack inclined his head, but didn't answer. Instead, he seemed to gaze at the doorway with a smile. "His name is Ianto Jones."

"Fine, fine arse," Hart murmured, hoping to get a rise out of the other man. Instead, Jack nodded in agreement.

"Indeed. And a good, good man. You know, you helped us out during that little adventure."

John groaned. "Don't tell me you two got married or something after I left? Named your kids after me? I don't want any credit for that."

"No, nothing like that," Jack murmured. "But you gave him such a hard time—and me, indirectly—that we were forced to admit some things about our relationship that we hadn't admitted before."

"Yes, I was there," Hart grumbled. "I heard it all, including the shag fest afterward."

Jack grinned. "Always amazing," he said, wagging his eyebrows. Hart had had enough. He stood up to leave.

"Look, I don't want to hear about your relationship issues over the years. I did what I was paid to do, and now I want my money. I've got somewhere else I need to be."

Jack stood with him and nodded. "Of course. But I wanted to thank you, for what you did for us."

"Don't," Hart snapped. "Because if you're about to tell me you set this up all so I could play relationship counselor, I will find a way to make sure you stay dead."

"You'd be the first then," Jack replied cheerfully. "Nothing sticks. And yes, in a way, I suppose you did play relationship counselor. But you also took the watch back to Ianto, and that was far more important."

John was starting to worry; Jack was too calm, too relaxed, and definitely too much in control.

"So was it true, that it was stolen and you wanted me to steal it back?" Jack nodded. "Well, whatever is so important about it, I hope it was worth it," John said. "Now, if I could get my money, I'll leave you to your temporal machinations in peace."

Jack threw back his head and laughed. "Temporal machinations? I like that! I suppose it might seem that way, but you know from our training that it's not quite that easy. The universe corrects itself. Things tend to work out the way they're meant to work out."

"Destiny and fate, blah blah blah," Hart snapped. "I'm glad you're following the rules so nicely, then. I still don't want any part of it."

"A cup of coffee, then?" asked a new voice from behind him. "Before you leave?"

John whirled to find a green mug offered before him. It smelled amazing, like the coffee he remembered from his time in Cardiff. But that was the 21st century, when coffee was still widely and readily available. It had all but disappeared by the end of the 28th century, only making a weak comeback by the time of the 46th century. He should not be able to smell such strong, perfect coffee in this time…but then, he shouldn't be looking into a pair of blue-grey eyes watching him with amusement.

"I seem to recall you saying coffee was shit in the future," Ianto Jones pointed out. "You may as well indulge yourself while you have the chance."

John reached out with a shaking hand and took the offered mug. He sipped at the warm liquid, briefly closing his eyes as he enjoyed the strong, rich flavor. Then he glanced back and forth between Jack and Ianto and tried to regain his footing once again.

"Imagine seeing you here, Eye Candy," he drawled, and was rewarded when Jones's face tightened the smallest amount. "You're over two thousand years out of your own time—you take the long road or the shortcut?"

Ianto sipped at his own black mug of coffee. "What do you think?"

Hart studied the other man; Ianto wasn't wearing a fine suit, but was instead dressed much like Jack in the clothes of the time. He'd also grown his hair slightly longer and was wearing a beard, and neither was shot with grey. To be honest, Ianto Jones looked even better than he had in Cardiff; an air of confidence completed the package.

"You're looking good." Hart nodded in appreciation, hoping his leer might throw the other man off. Ianto rolled his eyes in that way he did so well. "I'm thinking you took the shortcut and jumped ahead, but you've been here long enough to go native."

Jones smiled, a small dangerous smile. "Nope," he said, Welsh accent strong as he popped the letters. "Definitely the long road."

"Damn," Hart murmured, taking another sip of coffee to hide his surprise. That meant Jones was almost as old as Jack. "Don't tell me you've been with him the whole time?" he asked, once again enjoying the annoyed look on the other man's face. "Because let me tell you, you're missing out on some amazing things out there. You should live a little. I can recommend this lovely species with tentacles who—"

Jones set down his coffee and turned toward Jack. "I can't stay," he said. "You can finish here."

He started to leave the room, then turned back to John. "I suppose I should thank you for this," he said, and he tossed John a shiny object. It was the pocket watch he'd just left in the tourist office back in Cardiff. It looked old but well kept, only slightly tarnished by age, with a few knicks and scratches marring the dull metal. "But right now, I can't stand to even look at you. So thank you, but stay the hell out of our lives after this."

With that he turned and strode from the room, his anger palpable, along with something John couldn't identify. He turned to Jack, who was watching Ianto go with a sad look on his face.

"I take it I'm going to piss him off sometime in the future?" he asked Jack, who nodded slowly.

"You could say that," he said. "Both of us, actually—several times over. Ianto has a harder time forgiving wrongs against others than against him, though. Not to mention a massive guilt complex."

John tucked that away. He hadn't done anything, but he almost felt bad for whatever wrong he'd done Ianto Jones. Or would, at some point in time. He tossed the pocket watch to Jack.

"What's the story with the watch, then?" he asked. "Has it got magic powers? Or perhaps you're contagious? Are there dozens of immortals spread across the galaxy now, pining after you?"

Jack moved closer; John recognized his panther stalk. "I don't remember you being such a dick last time we met," he said, his voice more casual than his body language. "In a way, you helped bring Ianto and I together. We were closer after you brought the watch back, aside from the usual bumps in the road. And you seemed different whenever we saw you again."

"Well, those other times haven't happened for me yet, have they?" John asked. He decided to sit down again and took Jack's place on the sofa. It had been a long day—a long two days without food and drink, actually — and he was suddenly feeling the fatigue. He took another sip of coffee, then set it on the table before he dropped it. "So maybe right now I'm a dick, but next time I'll grow up some."

Jack smiled down at him. "Ianto did try to convince you to move on, settle down into a respectable life."

"Never going to happen," John replied, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"I know," Jack replied sadly. "I saw it. And I watched you die because of it."

John groaned and tried to sit up straighter. "Fucking hell, you're telling me I'm dead for you now?"

"You've got time," Jack said softly. "And that's the thing about time travel—we can still see you again even after losing you."

"I seriously doubt Eye Candy was all broken up about it," John said. "Probably did a jig or something."

"He tried to save you," Jack told him. "I think that's one reason why he's so upset right now."

John let his head fall back against the sofa, his arms loose by his sides. "You're only saying that to get into my pants," he said, then laughed to himself. As if Jack was interested in him, not with Jones still hanging around. Jack shook his head again.

"No," he said, confirming it. "Doesn't happen."

"Didn't happen _yet_ ," John retorted. "Time travel, remember?"

"I'm sorry," Jack said, and he did sound sorry. "But I'm not that man anymore—I haven't been for a long, long time."

"You're too old for me anyway," John tossed back, but he heard the half-hearted tone to his voice. "And from the sound of it, Jones is not far behind. How'd that happen anyway? You or the watch?"

Jack fingered the watch. "In a way, it was you," he said quietly.

"Because I gave him the watch," John replied. "It's that damn watch. Your curly-haired friend told me Eye Candy was going to need it. Is it really magic then? Does it save him—or curse him?" He stifled a yawn and struggled to keep his eyes open.

"It revealed his true self at the moment he needed it the most. So yes, it saved him, and in a way, it saved me as well. Because he's still here, alive, with me. I thought I'd be alone when he died. Now we just take a break when we need it."

"I don't understand a word of what you're saying," John replied. He was finding it harder and harder to talk. "But if I did something good for once, you're welcome."

"You did," Jack said quietly. John turned and leaned against the arm of the sofa, stretching out his legs. He was exhausted. To his surprise, Jack pulled a blanket over him. "And I'm sorry it has to end like this, but we're meeting out of order. I had no choice."

John tried to sit up, but he couldn't. He could barely keep his eyes open or speak. "You drugged me," he managed to slur.

Jack nodded. "You'll wake up here with no memory of ever meeting me or Ianto. It has to be that way, so that it doesn't change the past." He paused. "As much as I'd like to," he murmured.

"You bastard," John muttered. "You really did set me up."

"It's a closed time loop," Jack replied. "No beginning, no middle, no end. You saved Ianto's life, and I'll always be thankful for that."

John tried to shake his head, but it barely moved. "I'd have said no if I'd known. I hate being manipulated, especially so you can shag into eternity."

"You won't remember," Jack murmured. He touched John's cheek and gazed at him fondly. "You'll wake up and River will make sure you're safe. The room is yours for three days, your money will be waiting, and your ship is ready."

"And at some point, I'll run into you in another time," John said. "Before I die."

"Several times," Jack replied. "And you should probably—"

"Jack," came voice from somewhere nearby. "You can't say anything."

Jack's eyes tightened, but he nodded. "I know. I won't. He's almost out and wouldn't remember anyway."

"You know we can't change the past," Ianto said quietly, and John saw the Welshman enter his field of vision. "We can only maintain it."

"We have," Jack said. "You're here, after all. It worked."

"Ianto Jones," John murmured. "See, I know your name."

"Go to sleep, John," Ianto told him. "You'll be fine when you wake up." He paused and took a deep breath. "And thank you for saving my life."

"Still not sure how, but you're welcome." John paused. "You, not him. Eye Candy. Jack's eye candy forever. Lucky pricks, both of you." He yawned. "See you around. Hope I remember next time, though."

He drifted off and remembered no more.

"That was not pleasant," Ianto said quietly, standing beside Jack. "Even though we've met him several times over the years, I remember this version. He really got to me—he was so angry and bitter."

"So were the others," Jack pointed out. "It's his nature. You can't change him. Just like you couldn't stop him, or save him, and that's all right."

Ianto sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Can we go now? I've been dreading this for months, and you promised a vacation somewhere I've never been."

"Didn't we do the same thing after he left you the watch back at Torchwood?" Jack asked. "Take a trip?"

"We went to the Gower," Ianto replied, smiling as he remembered one of their first trips together. "It was good."

"Well, we can do better this time," Jack replied. "We have the entire galaxy to explore. Are we done packing?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "You mean, am _I_ done packing? Yes. Your stuff is scattered wherever you dropped it."

Jack pulled him close. "I doubt it. You want to leave, so I bet you packed it for me."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Fine, I did. But I didn't fold anything."

"I doubt that too," Jack laughed. "You hate wrinkled clothes."

"Can we get our stuff and go?" Ianto grumbled. "I didn't stick around for two thousand years for you to keep taking the piss out of my traveling habits."

Jack leaned forward and kissed him. "We can go anywhere, do anything. We made sure you survived Thames House. We're no longer part of the loop." He placed the pocket watch back in Ianto's hand, where it belonged.

"Still can't believe it sometimes," Ianto murmured, thinking back to the moment in London when Jack had placed the pocket watch against his forehead, and he had been enveloped in a warm, golden glow unlike anything he'd seen or felt. It had been painful and disorienting and desperately confusing, especially when he'd woken up after thinking he was dying in his lover's arms, only to find Jack holding him close and crying.

They'd saved the world together that day, and many times after. And then they'd left and started new lives wandering among the stars. They'd always come back to Earth, but after hundreds of years of traveling, they had purchased a small planet—an asteroid, really—to call home and began their collection. At first it had been for memories from their past, then it had been a preservation of history, and then they had started collecting dangerous artifacts, vowing to protect the galaxy and pass on what they had learned.

Until they'd realized it was time to set in motion the time loop that had saved Ianto so long ago. They'd easily traced the watch to vault 654 of the Galactic Bank on Alpha Centauri, since that was what John Hart had told them in Cardiff. While searching for Hart, they'd also tracked down the owner of the vault. Apparently he'd found the watch, realized who it belonged to, and had vowed to keep it from them both, in order to torture Jack once more. Even the numbers on the vault had been chosen to hurt them, and they had. Fortunately, River had found Hart, they'd sent him in for the watch and let things unfold as they'd remembered them, and Ianto had regained the vital timepiece despite the Master's machinations.

Ianto's grandfather had once told him it was important, valuable; Jack had said the same. Now they knew why, and Ianto could only thank the universe that it had allowed him to regain his true nature. It had been a difficult adjustment, and he still didn't know much about how it had happened, but in the end, it didn't matter how, only that it had. He could be with Jack almost forever; he still had nine regenerations left, after all, and so much work to do. Places to go, things to see—even after so many years. He couldn't be more grateful to be what he was, to have the time that he had now.

"So where are we going?" Ianto asked. He led Jack from the room to gather their things.

"What's your fancy?" Jack asked. "Action, adventure? Or someplace calm and quiet?"

"Both?" Ianto suggested. "Can't have you getting bored and causing your own trouble, after all."

"I can do calm and quiet, you know," Jack pointed out. "I have grown."

Ianto glanced sideways at him. "But what good is calm and quiet without a little action and adventure beforehand?"

Jack laughed. "Very true. All right, then, I know the perfect place."

"Your bed?" Ianto suggested dryly.

"It's your bed too," Jack replied as they entered the bedroom. "But no, for once that's not what I was thinking. River has a lead on some tech we might want for the archive—plasma canon, Jamolean lance, your favorite stun guns. Only it's located on a leisure planet known for some seriously adventurous forms of copulation."

"You want to take me to a sex resort for business and not pleasure?" Ianto asked dryly.

Jack shrugged. "We could do both. There's quite an underground in illegal weaponry and alien tech developing, so we could prowl for the tech at night and indulge ourselves during the day."

"Indulge ourselves how?" Ianto asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

"I've heard it's beautiful, some of the best beaches this side of the galaxy," Jack replied. "The food is supposed to be amazing, and they have a highly-developed sense of art, music, and dance. They like to enjoy themselves and show others a good time as well. Peaceful, cultured." He paused. "And lots and lots of sex."

"And yet it's crawling with illegal tech dealers?" Ianto asked skeptically.

"From what River said, it's expensive," Jack replied. "Anyone that goes there has the money to spend on fancy tech, particularly weapons. I've never been there, but I know in a century it'll be a criminal hangout, full of assassin guilds and drug gangs. And even more sex, but not in a good way."

Ianto nodded. "Now's the time, then. I wouldn't mind a new Tregennan demolition bomb," he said. "That worked nicely back in Cardiff."

"Could use more bolt guns too," Jack said. "Zach Flane still wants to take a team to Krop Tor and check out the power source, and they could use whatever help we can give them."

"Sounds good," said Ianto. "We can take our time, though, right? There's no hurry to get there, get back?"

"Not really, although we should let Zach know so he can start preparing his team."

"Tell him three months," Ianto replied. "Then he can go study black holes as much as he wants. Right now, I want my vacation."

Jack stepped up to him and wrapped his arms around Ianto's waist. "Do you think you'll ever be ready to see Gallifrey?" he asked quietly. "Because the time loop is over for us. We're no longer tied to preserving the future—or maintaining the past. Maybe it's time to explore your heritage."

"Do you ever plan on returning to Boeshane?" Ianto asked in response. Jack shrugged.

"Maybe someday," he replied. "As long as I don't run into myself. I did grow up there."

Ianto sighed. "But I didn't grow up on Gallifrey. It's little more than a name to me, like a place from myth and legend. My home is on Earth, in Wales."

Jack nodded. "I understand," he said. "Maybe we could swing by Earth on our way back? It's been a while, after all."

"I'd like that," Ianto said. "But sex planet first."

Jack smirked. "I think that might be the first time I've ever heard you put those two words together."

"It's hardly the most shocking turn of phrase," Ianto pointed out. "Frankly, I'm surprised it's taken us this long to go!"

"If I'd known you were interested, I'd have taken you centuries ago," Jack teased. Ianto smiled and leaned forward to kiss him.

"How about a preview before we leave?" he murmured, and began to nibble at a spot on Jack's neck he knew would make the other man quickly agree. He felt Jack smile and relax into him.

"John's in the other room," Jack pointed out in token protest, letting Ianto guide him closer to the bed.

"Hasn't stopped us before," Ianto replied.

"So is River."

Ianto stopped and pulled a face. "Damn. Quick and quiet, then. It's too nice a room to let go to waste." He tumbled Jack down to the bed with a grin, and they laughed as they quickly disrobed, kissing and touching and reconnecting after a long day—a long wait.

They'd waited two thousand years to ensure Ianto's future. The mystery of the watch and the time loop had haunted him at times, but now they could both move past it and spend another two thousand years together, or more. Whereas once the thought of living for centuries had terrified Ianto, now he looked forward to it.

He was with Jack, and they had all the time in the universe to explore the stars, with` an ancient pocket watch to remind them of both their past and their future. Together.

* * *

Author's Note:

The End! I told you there was a bit more, and that I'd left the hints, and many readers seemed to pick up on it! Yay! I wanted it to be subtle, though, so I hope it worked. If you've read my stories, you know I will almost NEVER pass up a chance to give these two men their happy ending. I've never done it this way, though, so now I can cross it off my list. Now, if you're going to be picky and poke at the mechanics of it, fine. I'm not sure even I can explain the casual loop this time. And I know Ianto should probably look different after a few regenerations, but I'd like to think he did, then came back to a familiar one for this particular adventure. I needed John to recognize him, after all, so I'm playing my author's card. I think I've earned it. I did a ton of research for this story, particularly the ending, so try to catch some of the other references instead of wondering why Ianto still looks like Ianto. Thank you for reading and for all of the comments and support! I hope you enjoyed this story.


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